The Pelorus Affair
by MLaw
Summary: Thrush is building nuclear bombs and Napoleon, an Army CID officer and Illya are on the trail of missing enriched uranium stolen from a facility in Virginia, but their assignment takes them in different directions.  mild het chapter 3,  a pre-saga story
1. Chapter 1

"_**Kia hora te marina, kia whakapapa pounamu te moana,**_

_**Kia tere Karaohirohi te i mua i tou huarahi_ May calm be spread**_

_**around you, may the sea glisten like greenstone and**_

_** the shimmer of summer dance across your path."~ Māori**_ _**blessing.**_

.

**"The Pelorus Affair****"**

The shock wave from the explosion hit the white and blue Ranger in seconds, smashing the safety glass and knocking the helicopter off kilter. The power from the blast sent the aircraft spiralling out of control as it dove across the sky.

All the bells and whistles on the instrument panel were going off, giving loud warnings to the pilot that his helicopter was losing altitude rapidly...as if Illya Kuryakin wasn't already aware of that.

He pulled on the cyclic with his right hand, trying to adjust the pitch of the rotor blades to pull the chopper out of its downward spin, his left hand on the throttle trying to maintain the air speed, and his feet were furiously working the anti-torc pedals as he attempted to keep up the nose of the helicopter.

But his efforts were futile as the chopper continued to drop. At the last minute he released the controls, raising his arms defensively in front of his face as the machine smashed to the ground.

When he awoke, the helicopter was lying on its side as he hung suspended by the safety harness. He kicked the door away with his foot then released the belt and drew himself up to the opening.

Blood coming from a head wound ran into his eyes, making it difficult to see as he pulled himself up and out, falling over the side to the ground with a thud, but as he tried to focus his vision he realized it was quite blurred. He knew that he had been very lucky in that the rotor blades had failed, otherwise he and the fuselage would have been cut to bits.

He could detect light, but could barely discern the shapes around him, feeling a moment of panic at his lack of vision, until he forced himself to relax. A few minutes later his eyesight improved, still a little out of focus but at least he could view his surroundings. What he saw was unexpected; he knew there would be damage from the explosion, but nothing like this.

The once green and lush landscape was now a wasteland as a strong wind blew swirls of smoke and dust around him and what was left of the trees.

Illya was in shock, and the effort to raise himself up from the ground felt surreal and disconnected. His head began to spin, but he forced himself to his feet, then reached into his jacket pocket, feeling his communicator still there.

"Open Channel D-Solo." He grimaced as the pain coursing throughout his body hit him when he let himself lean back against the wreckage. It felt like nothing was broken, to his amazement.

"Napoleon are you there?" he gasped as a sharp pain hit him when he felt blood running down his face from his head wound.

.Napoleon Solo was travelling at top speed in a stolen sedan, glancing upwards periodically at his partner who was travelling by helicopter. They had only minutes to get far enough from the compound before it was too late...but then it already might have been too late. The two of them just hoped they'd both live as the farther away they got, the better their chances of survival would be. On the other hand, injury was going to be a given.

Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light, then looking into the rear view mirror he saw in the distance a cloud of red, orange and black suddenly mushroom up into the sky. "God help us," he whispered as he steeled himself against the blast wave.

Then came the tremendous boom that was followed by a concussion that hit the rear of the car, lifting it upwards like a toy and sending it hurtling end over end, tossing the agent inside like a rag doll. The vehicle ceased its movement, finally ending up on its roof.

He was hanging upside down with only his seat belt keeping him from falling and preventing his neck from being broken while he was pummeled inside the car as it flipped. Holding one hand out to catch himself, he released the buckle as he dropped down, then squirmed out of the window to the ground.

Solo realized that it was all gone; what had been a tree-lined rural road was now a barren landscape. Every bit of life was damaged or destroyed. There were a few skeletal trees remaining, and nothing moving but a dust-filled wind blowing around him.

The chirp of his communicator startled him for a second, calling him from his haze, then looked at the wreckage of the car and was shocked that he was uninjured.

"Solo."

"Are you alright?"

"Surprisingly, yes. How about you."

"Head injury, I am quite dizzy at the moment."

"Stay put, leave your communicator on. I'll come to you."

Napoleon switched on the homing signal, its intensity indicating that Illya wasn't that far away. He headed in the direction he'd last seen the helicopter above him and as the tone became more rapid, he knew that he was getting nearer to his partner. Twenty minutes later he climbed over a ridge, seeing the Russian sitting on the ground, leaning against the wreckage of the Bell 47J helicopter.

Illya lifted his head slowly as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively he moved to draw his Walther from his holster, but when he saw it was his partner, he stopped.

"This is really bad," Napoleon called to him.

"If ever I heard an understatement that was one" Illya mumbled, then fell forward to the ground. He awoke several minutes later cradled in Napoleon's arms, his blond hair being gently stroked by his partner's hand after the blood was wiped from his eyes with a handkerchief.

"We really have to stop meeting like this," Illya joked quietly, "people will begin to talk."

"They already do," Napoleon smiled.

"You realize that we may have been exposed to a good deal of radiation." Illya said.

"Now that was your turn at making an understatement. But I think the Solo luck may have been intact again as the wind was and still is blowing away from us. You'll be happy to know I called in an S.O.S. and a medivac is on its way." He cocked his head to one side, " As a matter of fact I think I hear it now."

The air was whipped around them as a Huey helicopter landed beside the wreckage. Medical technicians exited carrying two stretchers, but Solo declined for himself, indicating for them to just help his partner.

They arrived at an U.N.C.L.E. medical facility less than forty-five minutes away, and both agents were whisked off to be checked for radiation poisoning. Solo had some sore muscles, but was uninjured, Kuryakin needed stitches in his scalp, treatment for a mild concussion and superficial lacerations.

Both men were deemed to have been lucky not having sustained any serious injuries but the radiation they had been exposed to was questionable. But as a precaution, they were given doses of potassium iodide as a preventative measure and confined to medical for observation.

Both men had notorious reputations for bad dispositions and being uncooperative when in medical, but Kuryakin more so than his partner and so to alleviate the nurses from running back and forth between the complaining men, they were assigned to the same hospital room.

Only a few hours had passed and Illya was as usual dodging his medications, and an exasperated nurse ironically named Candy Sweets finally lashed out at him.

"How would you like it if I stopped you from doing your job? I know you don't like this, but you're not being very fair to me, and I get tired of it Illya...I really do."

"Hey Candy, I've been a good boy," Napoleon smiled, giving her his best puppy dog look.

"Oh Napoleon, please don't start! " Then she burst out in tears she left the room. Bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room.

"Now you've gone and done it tovarisch, you made her cry." Napoleon jabbed at his partner for his callousness.

"Well then you make it up to her, I am sure you will think of _something_."Illya huffed, crossing his arms in front of him.

Illya was ordered to stay in bed making him all the more surly, while his partner dressed in his pajamas, robe and slippers at least had the mobility to move about their room for all the good it was worth. Solo was just as antsy, and wanted to get out of there as well.

"You still have your headache?" Napoleon looked over at his partner; his face seeming a little puffy to him, and his skin appeared a bit pink, but he put that off to his partner just being a bit peeved.

"What do you think?" Kuryakin said, covering his eyes with his hands as he was finding himself overly sensitive to light. "Could you please draw the curtains, the light is really bothering me."

"Worse than when we arrived last night?"

"A bit."

"Anything else bothering you?"

"Only your annoying questions, Dr. Solo."

Napoleon clicked his tongue. "No need to be testy. What, I can't worry about you?"

"I will let you know when it is time to worry my friend, thank you. Now please be quiet. I would like to take a nap."

"Lunch will be here any minute, don't you want to wait?"

"I am not hungry."

That gave Napoleon cause to worry. Illya Kuryakin was never, _not_ hungry and armed with that bit of information, he walked out to the duty nurse's station to let someone know about his partner's loss of appetite.

"Mr. Solo, please go back to your room. We are aware of Mr. Kuryakin's loss of appetite. He hardly ate his dinner last night, nor his breakfast this morning. We are monitoring him carefully for any other signs of radiation sickness."

Napoleon suddenly realized that Illya could be dying right before his eyes...hell he could be too. They had taken the full force of the blast and he wondered if the doctors were lying about the amounts of radiation they had been exposed to, just to soften the blow.

He walked back to his room, pulling up a chair beside Illya's bed as he slept. Then a moment later one of partner's eyes opened, peeking at him.

"Please tell me that you are not going to sit there and stare at me while I sleep?"

"Ugh... no, I wasn't. Sorry I bothered you. I'll just go lay down too" Solo bluffed, not wanting to give away the fact that he was now really worried about him.

"Thank you Napoleon. I think I will be fine. Please do not concern yourself with me." Illya tried cracking a smile as he sensed Napoleon seemed more tense.

An hour later Illya was surrounded by several nurses as he began heaving his guts out. It was then they decided to move him to a private room and that Napoleon was not happy about at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Napoleon, using some stealthy maneuvers, stole down the hall to his partner's room, but the night nurse was good, too good. She caught him and wouldn't let him take another step, saying that that the patient needed his rest.

He mumbled something, calling her Nurse _Payne_ and that got him a threat of a sleeping pill and being strapped into bed for the night.

That of course made him all the more determined to see Illya and not to be undone, Solo saw his opportunity when _the Payne_ was called to another patients room. He managed to duck past the station, with a less observant _Angel of mercy_ on duty there.

As he entered Kuryakin's room, it was completely dark with the curtains drawn, but he could make out the familiar figure curled up in the bed.

"Illya?"

"Napoleon. Go away."

"That's not being very friendly. I sneak out to visit you and make sure you're okay and this is the reception I get?"

"I am not okay, so there you know," the familiar voice answered hoarsely from the shadows. "Would you please leave me alone?"

"Close your eyes, I'm going to turn on the overhead light."

"No, _please_ do not."

It was too late for Napoleon to comply with his partner's request as he yanked the pull chain on the light fixture. He was not prepared for what he saw.

Illya's face was red and raw looking. His skin was peeling as if he had a bad sun burn. His eyes were swollen, as were his lips. His arms and hands looked equally enlarged and as painful.

"Oh my God Illya, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? It was one of the risks of the mission, we both knew that."

"But why you and not me?"

"That they do not know. Prepare yourself, as I suspect they will be making a human pincushion of you soon. The answers must lie in your blood chemistry. Now I think it is best you leave before our delightful night nurse catches you. I do not think she is susceptible to the usual Solo charms as last time I looked, she had a bit of a moustache and I suspect high DHT and testosterone... if you get my drift."

"Oh you mean Nurse Payne?"

"I have a more colorful name for her...zver'_the beast," Illya snorted.

Napoleon ignored his partner's attempt at humor. "I'm not going to beat about the bush. Tell me the truth, you're not dying are you?"

"I will live. the thermal radiation is what caused some minor flash burns and of course the nausea and vomiting. I was lucky that I was far enough away not to be affected severely. The edema is related to the flash burns and the helicopter crash. I assure you, it looks worse than it is, or so our doctors have told me."

I have been informed though, that I will most likely not be able to father any children, since this is not my first exposure to radiation and they are surmising this is a double dose, as it were, and it has affected my sperm count." Illya chuckled a bit at that.

"I was not exactly planning on having children but I suppose having a few of them one day would have been nice; if I lived to retirement age of course, and if I could find a woman who would put up with me. At the moment, I am not feeling quite that concerned about it."

"Wow, that's a lot of ifs, and you're staying pretty calm about it all."

"Why get upset over something that I cannot control? It will do me no good. Unfortunately my lack of emotion at this revelation has now caused them to schedule one of those damned psyche evaluations for me. Apparently my lack of concern has them worried."

"Oh your usual tantrums in here aren't enough display of emotions for them? As usual, you've had the nurses in tears and running for cover," Napoleon grinned.

"Apparently they are establishing that as my baseline, and showing a lack of feelings regarding the news of my sterility has them perplexed. So much for my tactics." Illya sighed.

"Hey they were bound to catch up with you sooner or later."

"Trust me Napoleon, I am sure they will be testing you for that little side effect soon enough, if they have not already. So just lose your composure if you get the same news as me, then you will be released from this _place_!"

As Illya had predicted, the next morning they did indeed start sticking Napoleon with syringes, drawing blood and taking tissue samples as well as requesting a semen specimen.

"Are you sure I have to do this," he asked the shapely day nurse as she handed him the specimen jar.

"I'd much rather deliver it to you in a more pleasant way." He smiled at her slyly.

"Napoleon Solo, if you don't do what you're told, I swear I'll file sexual harassment charges against you!" She warned, pointing her finger at him.

.

"Okay. Well that being the case, could you give me some privacy? Please?" There were some things about a liberated woman that Napoleon Solo just didn't like.

.

After all the poking and prodding was finished, it was decided that Solo had less exposure to the radiation cloud than his partner had while being air born in the chopper and accordingly, he was released from medical.

Illya, on the other hand was stuck there while still recuperating. The swelling finally began to subside and with the help of medicated creams and ointments his skin began to heal.

They were both permitted to travel via the company jet back to New York. Napoleon was free to return to duty, while his unhappy partner was ordered to stay in Medical for continued observation and blood work.

Napoleon visited his friend on a daily basis until one morning he was called into Waverly's office and found himself being sent on a follow-up mission. He was not happy that it would be without Illya.

"The uranium that was used by Thrush in the nuclear device in Nevada has been identified as coming from a source within the United States. Intelligence from the the Pentagon has indicated that enriched uranium has gone missing from a lab in Virginia" Waverly said, tossing a folder in front of his CEA.

"Vintech is the name of the company that was engaged by the U.S. Army to process uranium for weapons development. We suspect that it was an inside job and though you and Mr. Kuryakin still circumvented a disaster in Nevada at much risk to yourselves, there still exists the possibility that this suspected mole within Vintech could begin the whole process again. That's why you will be going in undercover to find him."

"Why wouldn't the Army investigate this sir, it's within their purview isn't it?"

"Oh it is Mr. Solo, and they will be investigating it. This will be a joint effort, since we suspect Thrush is at the heart of it. You will be working with Colonel Michaela Mirgorodsky, an Army CID investigator who will be acting as your liaison. The Colonel is being escorted up here as we speak."

The doors to the conference room opened and an officer dressed in a Class A green uniform stepped in accompanied by a member of Security. Napoleon's eyes opened wide with amusement when he saw the Colonel was wearing a skirt.

"Ah welcome Colonel Mirgorodsky, a pleasure to meet at last. This is Napoleon Solo, he will be our representative on your investigative team."

"Yes, how do you do Napoleon," she smiled offering her hand in greeting, " I've heard a lot about you.

"Really? All good I hope? May I ask where you have received said _intelligence?_" He turned on the full charm, flashing her a wide smile.

"Oh from your partner Mr. Kuryakin." She smiled," We've been acquainted for quite some time."

"Hmm, and where has he been hiding you?

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Solo, if you could cease your probing for the moment so that we might proceed with the meeting?" Waverly chided him.

"Yes, sir I'm all ears." Napoleon cleared his throat, then straightened straightened the file in front of him.

Waverly hit a switch on his console, lowering a video screen down from the office ceiling. He clicked another switch and the image of a bald headed man appeared .

"This is Dr. Victor Delmar, the head of Vintech Laboratories located just outside the small town of Cape Charles, close to the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, on Virginia's Eastern Shore. He disappeared for several days approximately a month ago then after his return, a sizable amount of enriched uranium vanished from their facility. The only reason the ore was discovered missing was due to one of Dr. Delmar's assistants performing an unscheduled inventory, having done it as he had become suspicious."

"Colonel, if you could be so good as to continue?" Waverly asked.

"Yes sir. Dr. Peter Reynolds contacted the Pentagon after finding a sizable amount of enriched ore was missing," she said as the image of a younger, dark haired man appeared on the screen.

"Should we consider Delmar a suspect?" Napoleon asked.

"Not at present " said Mirgorodsky. "It's surmised that Delmar may have been kidnapped and coerced in into revealing the access codes to the secure storage area. There is only one other person besides Delmar and Reynolds who would have had access and that is Dr. Christopher Fleming, a preeminent scientist within the research and development community and beyond reproach. We are guessing that whoever got those codes, then transmitted them to an inside person at the facility."

"Does Dr. Delmar remember anything about his being taken?" Napoleon asked.

"It's unfortunate that he is at present unconscious," Waverly answered. "He was found outside the Vintech compound in some sort of drug-induced coma. He's alive but we'll get nothing from him until he recovers, and that's assuming his memory will be intact. In the meantime you two will infiltrate the facility and find out the identity of the presumed mole. You Mr. Solo and the Colonel with be masquerading as the newest additions to the lab staff."

"But Mr. Waverly sir, I don't have a background in the sciences, wouldn't Illya...I mean Mr. Kuryakin be better suited to this? I understand from Medical that he's ready to be released."

"No, Mr. Kuryakin will not be involved in this part of the assignment, as I have other pressing matters that await him. Colonel Mirgorodsky will be acting as your partner as she, like Mr. Kuryakin has Doctorates and Masters degrees in Quantum Physics, particle physics and nuclear engineering and will be more than qualified to assist you."

Napoleon tried to keep from being distracted by the Colonel's good looks. She was blond, well built and had large almond-shaped hazel eyes. Attractive, not rugged in any sort of way and most definitely did not look like the typical female scientists that he'd met, or a member of the military for that matter. And as she sat there beside him dressed in her uniform, she still managed to look quite feminine.

"Illya you dirty dog, holding out on me?" He mused to himself.

"...Mr. Solo, are you listening to me?" Waverly called him to attention.

"Ahem, yes sir. Dr. Mirgorodsky has multiple degrees and we'll be working closely together on this affair as she'll be fielding any scientific issues for me."

"Hmm, yes quite." Waverly said as he sucked away on his pipe. "And may I remind you to to curb your _predatory instincts_ Mr. Solo, am I understood?"

"Predatory sir?" He knew what the Old Man was referring to, but feigned ignorance. He couldn't help it that he loved women.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean young man."

"Yes sir."

"Good. I expect your first report upon arrival to Vintech. Now dismissed."

Napoleon straightened his cuffs then escorted the Colonel from the office, letting her walk ahead of him, and cocking his head as he enjoyed the view of her swaying hips.

Waverly watched, his lips curving into a smirk as shook his head while muttering to himself. "Incorrigible, but then you were young once too." He smiled to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Napoleon and Colonel Mirgorodsky left Waverly's conference room together, he acting as her security escort as they headed up to the medical level to visit Illya. While he had a few minutes alone with her, he saw no harm in being a bit nosy.

"So how do you and Illya know each other?" He asked her as they stepped from the busy corridor into the elevator.

"Oh we met at a small symposium on Quantum Mechanics about six months ago. I'm based at the Pentagon so I only see him from time to time, when I'm up this way. So Napoleon why don't you just come out and ask what you're dying to know?" she smiled at him.

"And would that be?"

"You want to know if I'm sleeping with your partner."

Napoleon's face flushed with embarrassment. She smiled at him when he blushed. "I thought as much and no, I'm not going to tell you."

"Mmm okay," Napoleon answered her with a bit of indignation in his voice, being just a little put off by her boldness.

"He said you would be miffed."

"Oh he did? And what else has he said about me? After all I'm CEA and his boss and that puts me on a need to know basis."

"Well I refuse to answer on the grounds that I will incriminate myself and Illya. So that's as close to an answer that you're going to get for the moment."

"Wait a minute, that's not fair. You were the one who brought it up!"

The only answer he received was the sound of her soft laughter when he followed her out of the elevator, as he tried to figure out this woman's angle.

They walked past the station where Napoleon gave a polite nod to the duty nurse standing there.

"Just visiting Mr. Kuryakin, " he smiled.

"Perfect timing, he's being released now."

They stepped into Illya's room, catching him half way dressed, wearing his pants and shoes and he was just slipping into his white shirt.

"_Illuyshenka privet_!" The Colonel greeted him in Russian.

As usual Kuryakin's face was free of emotion, giving no reaction to her presence. "_Mishi, chto ty zdes' delaesh?_"

"Here to visit you of course," she smiled at him.

"A knock would have been appropriate before entering." He said with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

Mishi stepped forward, giving the Russian a polite peck on the cheek to which he remained unresponsive. Yet Solo observed her hand slip inside Illya's shirt as she discreetly caressed his skin, yet Illya made no attempt to stop her.

That answered Napoleon's question as to whether she had been sleeping with his partner or not, but wasn't proof positive. Yet his partner was not prone to letting a woman touch him in such a personal way in public, unless he'd been intimate with her.

Illya generally didn't display overt affection himself, regardless of his relationship with a woman and his partner watched again as he failed to respond to her touch.

"And I repeat, what are you doing here Colonel Mirgorodsky?" Illya asked coldly.

Napoleon stepped in, this time fielding the answer to that question.

"The Colonel is going to be working with me as part of a joint investigation on the source of the uranium that was the cause of your extended stay here in medical."

"Ah yes, I had heard there was to be an Army CID liaison on this affair." He finished buttoning his shirt, then in a gentlemanly fashion he turned his back, unzipping his trousers as he tucked his shirt tail in.

"And how do you know that? You've been in medical all this time, and I just heard about it at the briefing with Waverly." Napoleon was obviously chafed, as he never liked anyone to have the jump on him, even his partner.

"I have my sources Napoleon, and one just need listen to them." Illya smiled.

"So I heard you're getting out of this place, are you okay to go have some lunch?" Mishi asked, then turning to Napoleon, she extended an invitation for him to join them, to which he accepted. Though she swore that his partner suddenly looked annoyed.

Napoleon wouldn't miss this for the world; Illya squirming uncomfortably in the company of a woman.

"Oh I'd love to, as a matter of fact it'll be my treat," he said, knowing his partner couldn't refuse the offer of a free meal.

"No thank you Napoleon. As soon as I sign off on my release. I am on light duty for a few days, then pending further observation, I assume I will be returning to the field shortly as the Old Man has something waiting for me to do."

Napoleon clicked his tongue. "I don't know... you refusing free food? Maybe they shouldn't be releasing you just yet. I'll go talk to the nurse."

"Fine then, have it your way," the Russian finally surrendered.

"Oh Illuyshenka, don't be grouchy. If Napoleon wants to treat, I think that's rather nice of him." Mishi teased.

Illya was not pleased and would have much rather been alone with her. "So what would you like to have for lunch Mishi... Chinese, Spanish, Polish?"Illya asked, as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair, then remembered he had a comb in his suit pocket.

"How about Polish this time?" Mishi asked.

"Polish? Is that alright with you, since you are paying," Illya asked his partner.

"Whatever the Colonel wants is fine with me." Napoleon smiled happily.

"We can go to Cafe Szura."Illya suggested as he slipped into his suit jacket, then took care of the paperwork that was sitting on his bed table.

The three of them left headquarters, taking a taxi to the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn and upon entering the restaurant, Illya was greeted enthusiastically by the proprietress.

"_Ah Karol Kaminski mile widziane__ah Karol Kaminski welcome, welcome back, it has been a while?" A round and rosy-cheeked Mama Szura spoke to him, obviously knowing Illya under an assumed name.

"_Tak mama ma__ yes mama it has." He answered her in Polish.

She smothered him in a huge hug, then laughed as he wriggled free of her, seemingly embarrassed by her affection.

"_I aby nasi Goście tym razem__"And you bring guests this time?" She smiled, standing there with her hands on her large hips. "_O, ho, to dobrze, że nie jest sam i ahhh, pani jest tak piękna__Oh ho, it's good to see you not be alone and ahhh, the lady is so pretty." She winked at him.

"_To są moi przyjaciele_, Anthony i Michelle_These are my friends, Anthony and Michelle." He introduced them without missing a beat.

"Well it is good to know my little Karol has some friends," she said switching to English, assuming by the names that the two were not of Polish extraction, though the lady...even in an American military uniform could pass for Polish, or Russian maybe?

"Please sit, your regular table is free." She laughed heartily. "You see Karol is such a man of habit," she said directing her words to Illya's companions," always insisting on one particular booth by the kitchen in the back. No one ever wants to sit there, you would think he was a spy or something, wanting to see the comings and going of everyone."

The Russian cast a glance in his partner's direction, hiding a smile at Mama Szura's remark.

Illya placed the order for them and they feasted on kielbasa, stuffed cabbage and pierogies, as they made casual conversation, but all the while Napoleon could see that look growing in his partner's eyes and Mishis, as well.

At the end of the meal, Mama brought them a dish of _kruschiki_ cookies sprinkled with powdered sugar along with coffee. That was when Solo knew he had tortured his partner long enough.

"You know what, I think I'll pass on the dessert and head back to...ugh, work. I'll catch up with you both later." Napoleon finally abandoned them after tossing the money for lunch on the table and letting the two have a bit of privacy.

"So Illuyshenka, would you care for another sort of afternoon snack?" Mishi said seductively as she rang her finger along the back of his hand.

"I thought you would never ask." He gave her his crooked little smile that she adored so much.

They said their goodbyes to Mama Szura then stepped outside, hailing a checkered cab. What they didn't see was Napoleon Solo sitting on a nearby shoeshine bench, having his shoes polished while he covered his face with a newspaper, watching his partner plant a passionate kiss on the Colonel's lips.

"221 5th," he told the driver as they got into the cab and drove off.

Solo smiled when he heard Illya give the cabbie the address to their apartment building, and supposed that gave him the answer as to whether the two were sleeping together. He paused, quoting a bit of Milton to himself, "_The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose, Hail bounteous May that dost inspire. Mirth and youth, and warm desire."_

Then he handed the shoe shine boy a silver dollar as caught a cab to return to headquarters.

The boy's eyes opened widely "Gee, thanks Mister." He smiled tossing the coin in the air a few times as he watched his generous customer drive off.

.

It was a short drive to the fourth floor walk up. After trudging up the three flights of stairs together Illya unlocked his door, reset the alarm, then quickly stepped inside. The first thing he did was apologize for the mess as he started picking up the clothing and papers that were laying about.

"Sorry I have not been home in a while."

Mishi knocked everything from his arms and grabbed him, kissing him aggressively and to which he wasted no time in responding.

She could feel his arousal as he pressed his body against hers. "Mmm, I'd say you're still in need a little attention. I know a little emergency first aid." At that, he kissed her hard and long, while his hands began to undress her.

When they came up for air, she whispered to him. "When was the last time you got some, Kuryakin?"

"A gentleman does not say," he gasped as she suddenly grabbed him with her hand.

The two quickly removed the rest of their clothing, not even making it to the bedroom before they became entwined together and lowered themselves to the living room floor. As they knelt facing each other, he grabbed her by her hair, wrenching her head back sharply as he bit her on the neck while she practically growled in response. She dug her nails sharply into his skin as she pushed him down, straddling him.

Illya was accustomed to Mishi's aggressive tastes in love-making. She liked it a little rough and he obliged her, wasting no time with foreplay as he quickly thrust into her. She fell right in sync with him, joining in with his rhythm, pushing downwards as he moved, moving her hips to excite him.

He mumbled to her in Russian, whispering things that would make a seaman blush. "Oh yeah," she cried out, as he drove into her harder, then as she leaned forward, he teased her breasts with his tongue.

It went on for some time until Illya finally lifted her away from him, tearing open the foil packaging of the condom that he had magically made appear. Mishi was always amazed that he managed to do this without missing a beat.

Thinking for a moment about the pronouncement that he would not be able to father children, he hesitated, imagining that it would be gratifying to not to have to wear the prophylactic, then on impulse he threw caution to the wind and tossed it aside.

He rolled Mishi to her back then reentered her, continuing his steady movement, increasing it as he sensed she was nearing climax. She dug her nails into him, raking them across his back and buttocks. Then she screamed loudly, he felt that exquisite pleasure within her and released himself with a barely perceptible groan. He raised his chin upwards and closed his eyes as he lost himself in the intensity of his own orgasm. She smiled, knowing his head movement telegraphed just before he was about to climax, but that was the only thing that was predictable about the Russian's love-making.

They were opposites, he quiet to her boisterousness and yet when they made love, sparks flew between first few times that they had been in bed together, Illya had been concerned that she might be bored with him as he tended to be a low-key lover.

She laughed and told him not to worry about it, that everything was fine. Illya wanted to please her and after a little coaching, he gave her what she liked, always making sure she was satisfied before he allowed himself the same pleasure.

Illya dropped down beside her. They laughed softly, laying together as they breathed heavily, enjoying the afterglow.

"You really need to get some rugs on your floor," she quipped." I could get splinters in my bum."

He snickered to her, declaring at least there would be no rug burns.

"But let us not take any more chances on splinters," he whispered, then pulled her up from the floor, guiding her to his bed, where they laid down, napping for a bit. When they woke, they embraced carnal bliss off and on for hours, this time Illya taking control and whispering more sweetly to her, touching and caressing her gently...his way of making love, doing this until they were both finally sated.

"So when was the last time you got some?" she repeated, teasing Illya again as she snuggled next to him

"The last time I saw you in Langley," he admitted.

"Really, I would think a horndog like you would be getting some on a regular basis?" She laughed.

"Horndog?

"Oh I forgot, you still have trouble with American sayings." It's is a horny person, someone in need of sex who can't get enough of it."

He laughed at that definition. "Mishi please, I am not a horny person. I am discriminating as to whom I sleep with, that is all. I control my urges, I assure you...unlike you."

"I think you just insulted me," She joked, "and when I'm not around?"

She still managed to make him blush.

"I was just teasing. To each his or her own I say. Now me? I can't go without it like you can. A girl has needs you know." She laughed softly.

That's what Illya liked about her, no strings attached. There were no expectations or demands other than that of a sexual nature. She was a truly liberated woman in that respect. They could sleep with whom they wished with out any questions or consequences. They could bask in each other's company on both an intellectual and a physical level and not worry about anything.

There was no presumption of a relationship and that made him content. She was aware that he could not have one in the traditional sense; other than one of a purely physical nature and she accepted it.

Mishi seemed to enjoy that independence as well and was obviously a free thinking woman.

They lay together in bed relaxing in each other's arms when she suddenly popped up, heading out to the kitchen and raiding the freezer. She returned with a pint of chocolate ice cream and two spoons.

"So what is your assignment with my partner?" He whispered as she offered him a spoonful of the frozen treat.

She knew that these things were supposed to be confidential, but then Illya was the sort of man who had a way of finding out whether she told him or not.

"We're going under cover checkout to Vintech." She answered as she scooped a mouthful of ice cream onto her spoon then devoured it.

"Vintech, I know that name. That is the lab that the U.S. army subcontracted to process weapons grade uranium for their new program."

"Correct and that's the source of the uranium that was used in that mini-bomb that almost killed you and your partner. Mr. Waverly and the military are sure it was an inside job and are surmising there's a mole who'll try to smuggle more uranium out of the lab again."

"The program director, Victor Delmar has been mysteriously immobilized and is in a drug-induced coma, so Napoleon and I are going in as new lab techs."

"Napoleon in a lab? Now you have me worried."

"Well that's why I'm there, I'll be helping him navigate through any of the scientific jargon. But I have a feeling we won't be there long. Once we verify if there are any more shortages and find out where the uranium may have gone. And when that's done we'll shut them will just be a matter of interrogating the personnel until we flush out the mole.

"Most importantly, we need to make sure there isn't any more that's unaccounted for. We know how much was used in Nevada, and how much was reported missing by Dr. Delmar's assistant, Peter Reynolds,so the rest of it had to go somewhere."

"And this Reynolds, has he been in touch again?"

"We told him to lay low. We don't want an innocent bystander to get hurt. Finding out what's going on is our job, not his."

"I have a feeling that my part of the assignment will be locating the missing ore." Illya said.

"And how do you know this?" she smiled. "You just got out of your Medical."

"As I have said before...I have my sources." he said matter of factly.

"Hey, how is it that I have to tell you things, but you don't have to tell me?"

He gave no answer but instead, using the art of distraction, he spooned some ice cream into his mouth then leaned over to her and gave her a most delicious chocolate kiss as he slipped his tongue between her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Mishi insisted that Illya not accompany her to her hotel and left early in the evening rather than spending the night. She found it difficult to walk after their marathon lovemaking sessions and knew if she stayed with him, then she would have doubted her ability to walk at all. Given that she was supposed to leave for Virginia with Solo in the morning, it would have made things a bit awkward.

"My God," she mused as she got into her taxi," the man can't keep storing it up like this, it could be dangerous!" But she had to admit, she hadn't been laid like that since the last time they'd been together.

If she'd been in the market for a man with which to have a more permanent relationship, she first thought it could be Illya Kuryakin. But then she discovered something that she found a bit disturbing about him.

He had a dark side to him, initially one that only seemed to crop up when he slept. There were times that he would have terrible moaning nightmares and he would wake up gasping, and soaking with perspiration. He refused to discuss them with her, or his apparently troubled past. She tried to look beyond these things at times, but the more the nightmares came, the more he seemed to brood and the more mixed her feeling became towards him.

Then there were the times his dark, melancholy moods would surface during the day, and he would become deathly quiet and moody. When a mission failed, he would go over the details almost obsessively, trying to find what he could have done differently.

Illya took the catch phrase, brooding Russian to extremes at times and the fact that he refused to discuss things with her made her feel uncomfortable, and untrustworthy.

She would talk about life and the possibility of finding the right man someday, not that she was referring to him specifically. But he let his feelings on that topic slip to her one day as they lay in bed together. Then again, she wondered if it had not been a lapse, and was a deliberate attempt to keep her at arms length.

"Given I have most likely a short life expectancy, I would have no desire to make any woman good enough to put up with me the equivalent of a widow."

He believed that sort of life just wasn't in the cards for him, and doubted there was a woman out there who would accept his many eccentricities. "I think I am just not the marrying sort." It was the last thing he said on the subject.

She understood, and let him know that she accepted it. And for that reason, she convinced herself that keeping things open between then was for the best. At least that was what she told him; she was afraid that in spite of his somber moods, she might be developing deeper feelings for him, yet at the same time his dark side made her shy away just a bit.

Mishi knew having these feelings for the man wasn't a good thing, albeit they were mixed ones, but such emotions just didn't gel with their lifestyles, and if she let herself slip about these thoughts to him, they might drive him away.

Hers was a more carefree, unattached outlook on life, and she needed to stick to that belief, staying loyal to her job and free of attachments for now.

Illya was entirely focused and dedicated to his work at U.N.C.L.E. and there was no room for anyone in his life, except for perhaps his partner. There was love there between those two.

He'd told her of the rumors that abounded about himself and Napoleon, but most people knew theirs was an alliance of brotherhood with a bond of commitment to their work that joined them beyond mere friendship.

When she and Illya first met, he was most courteous and almost hesitant to go to bed with her, and that she found particularly refreshing for a man. She liked being the one to make the first move, and in a male dominated society, she realized that was what got Illya hooked.

He seemed to enjoy a woman who was confidant and bright as well as comfortable with her own sexuality. She was the one who ended up being aggressive, and that eventually got him to sleep with her.

"Oh well," she giggled to herself. " She would just have to manage living with just having incredible sex with the Russian. She'd take Illya when she could get him, and the same she thought held true for him.

There were no promises made nor were there any assumptions that there wouldn't be others. She still liked that sense of freedom as did he and they both knew that it would just have to be enough.

.

Illya cleaned up his apartment after Mishi left, gathering the laundry and periodicals that were scattered about. He rarely had to worry about visitors, except for his partner stopping by, so his place tended to be more or less disheveled[a].

Napoleon had once offered the loan of his cleaning lady after wondering how his partner was able to find things among the piles of papers, notes and books that seemed to line the living room, but Illya declined saying there was a method to his madness and no trouble locating what he needed.

That, in fact, was a lie. He just didn't like the idea of someone nosing through his private world. When he had first come to New York and was given his apartment, he reveled in the open space and the fact that it was his alone. In the Soviet Union, he had never shared an apartment with any less than six people.

While working for U.N.C.L.E. in London, he lived in a small, cold-water studio flat by himself, but it was as small as a postal stamp and left much to be desired, since he shared a bathroom with all the other working class tenants on his floor.

Once he had settled into this place, though sparely furnished, he managed to fill it with the things that interested him. His collection of jazz records made their way from under his bed onto a sturdy shelf along with dozens of books on varied subjects, from languages to history and sciences. But that soon became full, and his belongings overflowed to the floor.

He kept up with his field of physics and had piles of journals, in some of which he had managed to have some of his own papers published.

His guitar and balalaika stood leaning against the wall next to his beat up sofa that came with the place. It should have been replaced, but he found it comfortable like the company of an old friend.

If he did entertain a woman, he discovered that they preferred being intimate in their own bed, which was usually more comfortable than his own was. They seemed to feel more relaxed and less inhibited in their environment than in a strange one or such as a hotel. His rule against bringing a woman home to his own bed was usually kept more so as a security precaution but Mishi was one of the rare exceptions..

He looked at the dreaded refrigerator, knowing that there were left over take out containers in there that probably contained some well established mold colonies by now. There was a can of whipped cream in the back, and that he was thankful that Mishi had not spotted, as it would have made quite a mess in the bed.

He rarely cooked, and was actually not proficient at it, so there was usually a collection of the containers there. He would not waste the leftovers and generally disposed of the empty ones in a timely manner, but having been confined to Medical did not allow him to do so this time.

As a child, he threw together what ever he could find into a pot to make a stew of sorts, it was subsistence food and not real cooking. Once he left the Soviet Union, food was plentiful, but it simply became easier to order take away rather than trying to learn to cook.

Cooking involved shopping and decision making, recipes and meal planning. He could have the patience to tinker in his lab on miniature electronics and mixing complex formulas, but he had no such interests when it came to trying to cook.

When he discovered take out upon his arrival to this country, it seemed like heaven to him as the portions were always large. He could eat it all himself and not have to worry about sharing as he had to do so when living in Gorky. There, one was lucky to get a morsel from the communal stew pot. But just like in Russia, he kept no victuals in his kitchen cabinets, much to his partner's dismay.

The only things edible were a box of Cheerios that he would often munch on dry, loose tea and a jar of raspberry jam to sweeten it. That was what occupied his pantry, that and a bottle of vodka in his freezer along with his favorite treat, chocolate ice cream.

Other than take out, he would often eat at the commissary, or when Napoleon was in the mood for company, his partner would bring down steaks and cook them there. The last time that happened, it was in a serving of steak au poivre in cognac sauce with asparagus. Illya sighed thinking of that delicious meal, guessing that maybe it was time he started to learn how to cook as he could not keep relying on Napoleon for such things.

He opened up the refrigerator door, making a face when he spied the darkened masses taking up residence in the containers. He picked them up one at a time and tossed them into a paper sack, inspecting the inside of the fridge for any other growth before closing the door.

He took the trash downstairs, tossing it in a nearby dumpster, then retreated back to his apartment. He was feeling tired; spending weeks in Medical had kept him from working out, though he suspected his session with Mishi was probably responsible for a good portion of his lack of energy.

He smiled as he thought of her...the sex was incredible, and the best thing about it was that it carried no implications or obligations on his part or hers. That was what allowed him to continue sleeping with her, as he knew it was safe and there would be no demands made upon him other than to "screw her harder and faster," he laughed to himself.

"Would that it could be otherwise." He thought to himself, he found the idea of having a life with Mishi desirable, it wasn't just about the sex as there were other aspects that he found exciting about her and very comforting, and those were feelings he had not had about a woman in a long time.

Yet he knew that a life with Michaela Mirgorodsky was simply not possible. She was aware of what he did for a living, but only to a point. There were too many things that he could not share with her, and even though she was in the military, hers was a desk job. She did not know of danger he was exposed to on a daily basis.

He did care for her, but he wasn't sure if it was love or not, regardless of his feelings, he would not risk hurting her.

This life of Illya Kuryakin was too a precarious a one to draw her into.

There was a knock at the door, it being instantly recognizable as Napoleon's code. He looked at his wristwatch, finding it past seven already, not realizing how long he and Mishi had been together in bed.

He opened the door, letting his partner inside.

"I bring gifts," he smiled as he entered, looking around the apartment but not seeing the Colonel.

"If you are looking for her, she is not here," Illya said.

"At all?"

"Napoleon, as I have told you before I will not discuss my personal life with you."

"Aw come on, you two were practically undressing each other with your eyes when we were at lunch today."

Illya blushed for the second time that day. "It was that obvious?"

"Does a duck have a beak?"

"As a matter of fact it does not, a duck has a bill. And I do not understand what that has to do with your line of questioning?"

"Oh never mind," Napoleon said walking towards the kitchen with a paper sack in his hands. He proceeded to unload it, placing three sirloin steaks on the counter, a package of broccoli and baking potatoes along with a bottle of red wine.

Illya eyed the three steaks, amused that his partner assumed that Mishi would be there, and was actually relieved that she had left.

"So are you sleeping with her or what?" Napoleon asked point blank," because if you're not, I just want to make sure I have a clear path, if you know what I mean?

Illya suddenly found himself feeling unusually territorial, though he knew full well that Mishi could sleep with whom ever she pleased. He blurted out his answer to his partner.

"Yes, alright if you have to know I am. Are you satisfied now?"

"Thank you, I am. I just didn't want to encroach into your space that's all."

Illya couldn't help but be honest, knowing that he and Mishi had a strictly sexual and intellectual friendship and nothing more. "But she does as she wishes as we do not have a relationship or understanding of that sort, if you want to call it that."

"Oh really? So you wouldn't mind if I did shtup her then?"

"What do you think...of course I would mind! Can your libido not let me have a woman to myself without you having to try to sleep with her as well? Can you just exert a little self control once in a while?" Illya lashed out at him, showing his annoyance.

"Hey I was just asking. Don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself."

"Napoleon, Mishi is her own woman and makes her own decisions. It is her business with whom she sleeps with and not mine. I am just telling you how I feel that is all."

"Gotcha, no problem. I'll behave myself, scouts honor." He said holding up his fingers, flashing the traditional salute.

"Thank you." Illya said curtly. He surprised himself at his attitude and was not quite sure he liked it. Was he feeling jealousy? That was something he was unaccustomed to, and was not quite sure how to deal with it.

The bristling stopped once Napoleon brought the sizzling steaks on a platter to the table. One cooked medium for himself and two rare, just as Illya preferred as he knew his partner could easily down both. He watched as the Russian dug in with enthusiasm, and it was actually enjoyable to see his partner's voracious appetite back to normal.

"Illya why don't you slow down and taste it? There's no need to wolf it down, no one is going to take it from you."

"Sorry, old habits die hard," he smiled sheepishly.

"I know you like to keep your women on the QT, but I have to admit the Colonel is quite a looker." Napoleon said changing the subject. " I'm surprised you've kept her hidden this long, you met her six months ago?"

"Mishi is not a trophy to be displayed; she is a friend...that I happen to sleep with from time to time. And we met nearly a year ago when I was sent to Langely for the hundredth time to be questioned over nothing by the C.I.A. She was there as part of an investigative team for the Army...she spoke Russian, and the rest shall we say is history."

"Hmm, interesting. She told me that you met at a symposium."

"She does understand the need for security, so her little cover story is not surprising.

"Well since I have to work with her, you don't mind answering a few more questions about her?"

"Alright, that is fair enough I suppose. What do you want to know about her?"

"Well how is she at taking orders? After all, she's a full bird Colonel in the Army and didn't earn her rank by being compliant and meek."

"She is a very spirited and strong-willed woman, and she is also very intelligent. I have not seen any sign of an ego in her, so if your instructions are delivered in a well phrased manner, I am sure she will cooperate." He smiled knowingly.

"So does she prefer to be in the driver's seat?"

Illya assumed what his partner was alluding to as Napoleon had a one track mind when it came to a beautiful woman. "Excuse me, that is getting a bit personal."

"I didn't mean that, I meant it in comparison to you preferring to drive. Maybe, if I ask more directly? Does she prefer to be behind the steering wheel...does she like to drive the car, like you do?"

"Oh, yes she does and that is advantageous, I suppose, as she has a very good sense of direction...unlike you."

"Hey, no need for insults here." Napoleon chided.

"It is not an insult, it is a statement of fact." Illya smiled.

"And how is her aim, can she zero in on her target?"

Illya raised his eyebrows, knowing now that his partner was playing with him.

"You will have to ask her that, as my experience with her is only in the bedroom."

Napoleon grinned at his partner's final bit of candor, then helped to clean up the kitchen before finally saying good night.

Illya changed into his old pair of sweats as he readied himself for bed, then heard a meow coming from his fire escape and opened the window, letting a small black cat inside.

She wrapped herself around his arm, purring loudly as he welcomed her.

"Psst psst, hello my little Josephine, are you hungry? I suppose you have missed me, have you not? But you look none the worse for wear, so I think you have been unfaithful to me, and found food at another table, perhaps Mrs. Mannetti's? No matter, it is good to see you _ma minou__ my kitty," he said reaching down to scratch her head.

"Tonight you eat well _ma cherie_, courtesy of_ l'empereur Napoléon_."

She meowed loudly as she curled herself around his ankles rubbing her scent on the Russian to claim him as hers, while he chopped up some left overs, placing them in a bowl on the floor.

"Sorry I have no milk for you, but steak I think you will not mind enh? I am glad you are still alive and well."

He left her as she ate in the kitchen then deposited himself onto his sofa to catch up on some of his unread literature. He looked at his watch knowing tomorrow he had a morning briefing with Waverly and would no doubt receive details of his assignment.

A few minutes later Josephine hopped into his lap, curling up and purring contentedly as she went to sleep, and that lulled her tired Russian to close his eyes along with her.


	5. Chapter 5

"Good morning Mr. Kuryakin." Alexander Waverly called out his greeting as soon as the doors opened, not looking up from his paperwork.

The dreaded pipe was lit while Illya masked his disdain as the smoke drifted up and around the man's head. It's odor permeated the entire room but he would never dare say anything to the Old Man of his dislike of it. Depending on how sensitive he was on any given day, the smell of the noxious tobacco might make him sneeze a few times. Luckily today seemed to be a reaction-free day. He found it odd that Waverly's blend of tobacco bothered him, while his own_ Turkish_ blend cigarettes did not. Perhaps a sample of the pipe tobacco for analysis in his lab might be in order, but that was for another day.

Illya cleared his throat before he seated himself at the conference table, and that made Waverly smile just a bit as he was aware that his Russian didn't like his tobacco. "One must learn to deal with such things," he thought to himself.

Waverly removed the pipe from his mouth, setting it in his crystal ashtray knowing that it would extinguish itself in a few minutes. He then tossed a folder on the table then turned it until the documents rotated around to his agent.

"As you already know we've discovered that the nuclear material used in the bomb that you and Mr. Solo _failed_ to deactivate at the Thrush satrap in Nevada, was stolen from the processing lab Vintech. Mr. Solo and Colonel Mirgorodsky from Army intelligence are on their way to investigate that as we speak."

A photograph appeared on the video screen."This is a freighter called the _Chesapeake __Lady. _She sailed from Norfolk Virginia a month ago and was found aground on Chatham Island off the coast of New Zealand. "

Another image came up, one of a ship's deck strewn with bodies.

"The entire ships' personnel died of radiation poisoning. Traces of the contamination that killed them matched the signature of the uranium that had gone missing from the lab in Virgina. So you Mr. Kuryakin will be heading to New Zealand in search of that material. The local constabulary have kept the scene clear of any curiousity seekers, suffice to say the bodies have not been removed as of yet."

"Yes sir there are very specific sites around the world that are sources of the mineral. Globally, the distribution of uranium ore deposits is widespread on all continents, with the largest deposits found in Australia, Kazakhstan, and Canada. To date, high-grade deposits are only found in the Athabasca Basin region of Canada. As I recall this particular ore had its origins in Canada. The uranium 235 from these sources was the first isotope found to be fissile. Other naturally occurring isotopes were fissionable, but not fissile. Upon bombardment with slow neutrons, uranium-235 isotope would most of the time divide into two smaller nuclei, releasing nuclear binding energy and more neutrons. If too many of these neutrons were absorbed by other uranium-235 nuclei, a nuclear chain reaction occurs that would result in a burst of heat or an explosion..."

"Yes Mr. Kuryakin, quite." Waverly interrupted," Now if you could conclude your lecture on nuclear fission and focus on the matter at hand?"

"Yes sir, sorry." Illya replied, shrugging his shoulders. "How much material am I looking for?"

"10 kg."

"As little as 7 kg. of enriched uranium can be used to make an atomic bomb."

"Precisely," Waverly answered; the furrowing of his brow the only indicator that he was truly worried..

"Other than the freighter, are there any other signs of connections with Thrush _down under _sir?"

"At the moment our people are researching that and will have the final report ready for you once we are done here. That part of the world has been surprisingly free of_ feathered_ activities. First, that freighter needs to be checked as that is the most likely place to start."

Waverly tossed a packet contained an airline ticket across the table.

"Your flight to Sydney with a stop over in Los Angeles leaves this evening and upon arrival in Australia you're to collect protective gear. Then go to New Zealand and check out the freighter, as that seems to be our only clue at the moment." Waverly paused for a moment, with a look of concern written across his face.

"Please work quickly on this one Mr. Kuryakin, the thought of enriched nuclear material out there and unaccounted for makes for a most uneasy situation. It is bad enough that there's the danger of nuclear war between the United States and the Soviet Union always looming on the horizon. But with the United Kingdom, France and the People's Republic of China having also achieved nuclear capabilities, we do not need to add Thrush into the fray as the newest nuclear power. I want this uranium found and this situation nipped in the bud, quickly and by any means necessary. Collateral damage will be acceptable in this situation, am I clear?"

"Yes sir, completely." Illya left the office, file and ticket in hand, and filled with concern; nuclear material in the hands of those bird brains was indeed problematic and for the Old Man to find collateral damage acceptable only indicated his concern for the seriousness of the situation. He thought it somewhat ironic that one of the largest deposits of uranium could be found in nearby Australia, yet Thrush had to steal their supply from the U.S.

He headed down to records picking up the file that had been prepared for him, but it essentially said nothing and focused only on the islands of Chatham and Pitt due to the minimal population, surmising that these isolated group of islands were well suited to mask any illicit activity.

Illya realized that he needed to become more familiar with the country. He'd been to Australia before but never New Zealand, and found himself lacking any specifics other than where it was located.

Once settled into records, he located some reference material but not enough to satisfy his curiousity. It seemed that New Zealand was a place ignored by both Thrush and U.N.C.L.E. as well...until now.

The country's innocuous status made it an ideal location to continue Thrush's formulation of their next attempt at world domination. It was out of the way, and just enough in the shadow of Australia to be overlooked. He concluded that New Zealand was indeed a well kept secret, and an untapped source of wealth that would suit their needs.

He left headquarters finding the information available on the country too sparse to his liking, and decided to head out to Brentanos book store on Fifth Avenue across from the Rockefeller Center.

It had a curving staircase with a wooden banister. And there were small wooden benches available in front of the bookshelves where one could sit and read.

He'd made use of those benches on many an occasion. After zeroing in on the travel section for a guidebook, he found exactly what he was looking for and thumbed through it. Noting it was published by _Fodor_, he suddenly wondered if there might be any secret codes embedded in it, ignoring a sales clerk that approached him, until he spoke and interrupted his thoughts.

Illya mused at the thought that Eugene Fodor emigrated to America during World War II and went to work for the intelligence branch of the U.S. Army. Following the war, he moved to Paris and began publishing a series of guidebooks to individual European countries. Recently, he had moved back to the United States and began publishing books about this country. It made him wonder if man might still be involved in intelligence work in some way.

"Excuse me sir, are you going to _buy_ that book or manhandle it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I _said _are you buying it or not?"

"Yes I plan to purchase it but do the benches not encourage your customers to browse through a book before purchasing it?" He gave the young man one of his best cold-eyed stares but refrained from saying anything further, then walked away towards the checkout counter, leaving the clerk standing there with his mouth open.

The book contained more than enough information to be helpful, transportation...flora, fauna and climate. It had a small chapter on the indigenous Maori, thought to have their origins in the South Pacific and linguistically related to the Eastern Polynesian languages.

This he found interesting as these were languages that were not a part of his collection, he was so fascinated by the phonology that he walked down 5th Avenue with his nose buried in the book somehow avoiding colliding with any of the many pedestrians along the way back to headquarters.

He would have time on the twenty-two hour flight from New York to Sydney, there he would check in with the U.N.C.L.E. office and crash at the guest quarters there, as there would be no way that he could function without sleep on this one.

Once he was ready to head out, he would take a local flight to Auckland, located near the top of the North Island then he would head down to the country's capital of Wellington and from there he would take another air transport to the archipelago and Chatham Island nearly 800 kilometers south east.

He gathered his paperwork from his office then headed home to his apartment, packed the appropriate clothing, given the climate was surprisingly divergent and then with his travel guide in hand, he caught a cab for Kennedy airport.

Boarding for the Quantas Airline flight was on time, and he settled himself in his seat for the long journey. The plane taxied then took off smoothly and a stewardess came by with a beverage cart after the jet leveled out into it's flight plan.

"Can I get you something darl?" The woman spoke with a lovely lilt to her voice, that was the way the Australian accent always seemed to him, though a bit nasal and they tended to drop consonants here and there.

"Yes, coffee please?"

"Would you like some bikkies with that?"

"Biscuits hmmm, yes please." He smiled at her. She was a pretty blond and he mused that if Napoleon were here, she would have been paying more attention to him...his partner had that way of drawing a woman's attention to him.

Then Illya's thoughts drifted to Mishi Mirgorodsky and wondered what was happening there. He knew Napoleon would honor his wishes about not fooling around with her, but it was Mishi he was more concerned about. If she made moves on Napoleon, being the liberated woman that she was, he was not so sure his partner could resist her charms. Then he snickered at the thought of Napoleon squirming, having to confess if he did indeed break his word.

He could get some mileage out of the situation if it happened. And one always needed an advantage when it came to the likes of Napoleon Solo.

He supposed that if that happened, he could chalk it up it up to Napoleon simply being human, and one with a very strong libido at that. Still it seemed strange that it bothered him about the possibility they could sleep together. The thought of that truly happening was gnawing at him like a hungry rat.

It would not be the first time he and Napoleon had shared a woman, but why with this particular woman it bothered him, he wasn't sure, other than the fact that he might be really be falling in love with her.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a bright crisp day, the sun was shining and the leaves were just beginning to change color on the canopy of maple, beech and birch trees that surrounded their destination. A striking white manor stood sheltered behind a tall red brick wall as a silver convertible drove up the neatly trimmed dirt driveway, stopping at a pair of closed iron gates that blocked the entrance to Vintech laboratories.

Napoleon shoved a pair of tortoise-shell glasses back up his nose as he leaned his head out the window, pushing the call button on a speaker that was attached to a post at the gates.

"Can I help you?" Came the reply.

"Ah, yes I'm Dr. Jones, Napoleon Jones and this is Professor Smith. I believe we're expected."

"Yes you are Doc. Welcome to Vintech. The gates will open in a second, just follow the road and proceed on to the main entrance."

"Thank you." He rolled up the window then turned to the Colonel."Here we go."

The gates swung open slowly, obviously remotely controlled and Napoleon drove onward up the gravel driveway toward the building. Its architecture resembled that of a southern-style mansion and he scanned the property, noting that there were guards with German Shepherd dogs patrolling the grounds. No doubt there were spotlights and surveillance cameras and with all this security, someone still managed to spirit away kilograms of uranium without being detected.

He came to the immediate conclusion that it was impossible for one person to have been involved here...not good.

"Jones and Smith? That's the best you could come up with?" Mishi asked.

"First rule of a cover is to keep it simple," he smiled at her, " and, what's more simple than those names?"

The car was parked at the base of a long flight of stairs that led up to the columned front porch. Napoleon straightened his bow-tie and jacket as he stepped from the car.

He started to walk towards the passenger side, intending to open the door for the Colonel but she stepped out of the car, not waiting for his gallant gesture. He then opened the trunk with a shrug of his shoulders, reaching in for their valises, but then several Khaki attired guards joined them and quickly retrieved the suitcases and escorted them in the house.

"Welcome Doctors, this way please."

The interior of the house was replete with antique furniture, dark hardwood floors and the walls of the foyer were lined with potted ferns and miniature palm trees.

"Where may I ask are the labs?" Napoleon asked as they crossed the large foyer facing yet another long staircase.

"They're located securely beneath the house Doctor. First I'll show you upstairs to your rooms."

"Our rooms?"

"Yes all the important staff members reside on the premises sir, I thought you would have known that."

"Ugh, yes I did, I just didn't think we'd be directly above the labs. That's a bit risky isn't it?" Napoleon said, feigning ignorance as he and the Colonel had detailed maps of the facility.

"Not really sir, everything is secure and under control at all times, so there's no reason for concern."

Solo flashed a discreet glance at his companion, then the two of them followed behind their escort up the richly carpeted staircase. Oriental from the look of it; the same burgundy patterned carpet covered the landing as well down the long hallway as they were led down to the left.

Colonel Mirgorodsky's room was to the right, directly opposite Napoleon's.

"And all the scientists live here ?"Mishi questioned.

"That's correct ma'am. The technicians live in a separate building within the compound."

"And everyone stays here?" Napoleon asked.

"For the most part. Personnel are provided with everything they could possibly want, so there's no need for them to leave."

"Hmmm, sounds like all work and no play can make Jack a dull boy," he said. Considering that he found most scientists to be tedious to begin with, he wondered what the what the female contingency, if any would be like here.

"People are here to work sir, and they are dedicated to their jobs. There's no time for play. Once you're down in the labs you'll see why our team is so single-minded."

"I'll have to take you at your word," Napoleon smiled.

"Dinner will be at four, the main dining room downstairs and to your right."

"Thank you."

"Excuse me, but will we be given a tour of the facility?"

"That is up to Dr. Fleming, the acting director. "Oh and here sir, and ma'am these are your identification badges," he said handing two small white plastic cards to them.

"They allow you access to the labs. There's a small magnetic strip on the back encoded to open the doors for you. Badges need to be worn at all time for your protection as they will indicate if you have been exposed to any radiation above acceptable levels.

"Does it give us access to the storage facilities as well?"

"No ma'am, at present with Dr. Delmar out of commission, access to those areas are limited to Drs. Fleming, Rosenberg and Reynolds."

"Thank you" Napoleon said as he ushered their guard to the door, then locked it after him. He tossed the badges on the bed, then went straight to his briefcase, withdrawing miniaturized surveillance equipment from it.

"We'll need to set up these miniature cameras and microphones once we get the lay of the land. Then he pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket, flipping up the lid to check a hidden camera lens.

"Mmm, lay of the land," Mishi smiled. "I like the sound of that."

"Excuse me?"

She walked over to him and out of the blue planted a kiss on his lips. Napoleon couldn't help but respond at first, but then he took control of the situation and gently pushed her away.

"Umm, now is not the time...we have a job to do," he smiled as he mentally beat down his libido.

"But we're not working quite yet, are we? You just said all work and no play... You know you really are quite handsome Napoleon, and I find you attractive in a virile sort of way." She was practically purring at him, pursing her lips and licking them with her tongue.

"Oh God," he thought, " Why me?"

"Look, I have a rule here, you and Illya are sort of involved and I won't interfere with that."

"What Illya doesn't know won't hurt him," she smiled, as she played with his tie, undoing it.

He pulled her hands off, handling her gently then glanced at his watch. "Will you look at the time, we need to get ready for dinner."

"Are you sure? There's always time for a quickie?" She teased.

"Yes, I am sure. While I am quite flattered, the answer is still no. Now go to your room and get ready, take a cold shower... or something?"

"Care to join me for either one, " she persisted.

He unlocked the door then opened it. "Out!" he said, shoving her through it and locking it behind her.

He sighed, not believing what he just passed on and then headed for the bathroom, now feeling the need for a shower, and a cold one at that.

A half hour later, he was dressed and ready and knocked on Mishi's door.

"Are you decent?" He called.

"Unfortunately yes," she said, opening the door. " She was wearing a grey suit, with a cream colored blouse that had a rather large bow tied beneath her chin. Her blond hair was pulled up in a severe bun and she had on a pair of black over-sized eye glasses. She wore no makeup and her attire actually made her seem rather matronly.

"Here, take these," he said handing her a miniature camera and microphone. I want you to get to the main office and plant these tonight, I'm going to do the same down in the labs."

Given her behavior in his room, he decided that it was best not to offer her his arm and figured Illya was somehow going to owe him for this one.

"Shall we go?" he nodded in the direction of the end of the hallway.

They headed down to the dining area, finding nearly two-dozen men and women seating themselves at a very large, brightly polished cherry wood dining table.

A grey-haired man rose from his chair. "Ah Dr. Jones, welcome." he said offering his hand. The man was wearing a lab coat, but like most of the other men in the room, sported a bow tie just as just as Solo did.

"Thank you, and you are Dr. Fleming I presume."

"Absolutely correct sir Christopher Fleming. We are most happy that you've arrived. dear Delmar, such a shame." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head." I'm sure you'll find everything in order at this facility."

"In order? I hardly think that." A dark haired young man interrupted. He like Fleming was wearing a lab coat, but sported a brown turtleneck beneath it, instead of the shirt and bowtie.

"Now is not the time Peter," Fleming hissed.

"And you are?" Napoleon.

"Peter Reynolds. I was Dr. Delmar's junior assistant. We need to talk Doctor...there are irregularities that Dr. Fleming refuses to acknowledge."

Napoleon nodded his head, glancing at Mishi. "Perhaps Dr. Fleming is right, now it not the time. But we will talk Dr. Reynolds, that I guarantee."

"Please Dr. Jones, let me introduce the rest of the staff," interjected Fleming.

Napoleon stood his ground. "Gentleman, I've been remiss. Please let me introduce my assistant, Professor Michelle Smith." As he surveyed the female scientists in the room, Mishi even with her severe look was gorgeous compared to the rest of them.

Once the rest of the introductions were concluded they were all seated for dinner. They were served a meal of baked Virginia ham with all the trimmings, while idle chatter filled the room, but Solo noted the probing questions of Dr. Fleming with interest.

"And where did you say you were from Dr. Jones?"

"Cal-tech," Mishi interjected speaking for Napoleon, "Dr. Jones and I were part of a five-person team evaluating expected performance of the Nuclear Thermal Rocket that could intercept a comet bound for Earth. The project was fascinating because it's on such a different scale than previous efforts. Most information available about comet interception deals with small, slow-moving objects and long warning times, but with the NTR we're able to tackle very near the worst-case scenario: a 6.2-mile comet going 134,280 mph with only four months warning."

"Really, and you left such fascinating work to come here, essentially a uranium processing laboratory?"

"Ah but that work was theoretical," she answered, " at least here we're working in the real world, isn't that right Dr. Jones?"

"Yes, precisely," Napoleon answered, adjusting his glasses.

After dinner, Fleming invited Napoleon and a select few of the other scientists to the library for brandy and cigars.

"Cigars and brandy," Solo thought, "that seemed very unlike any scientists he'd dealt with in the past.

There was something about Fleming that made Napoleon's radar go blip, even though the man had an impeccable reputation in the scientific community.

As they settled on to the leather sofa and chairs, each holding their snifters, Fleming began the conversation.

"About Dr. Reynolds, Napoleon...if I may call you that?"

He nodded his approval then leaned in towards the man, "As long as I can call you Christopher," he smiled.

"But of course," Fleming responded. " I'd like to address an issue with you regarding Dr. Reynolds...after Dr. Delmar fell ill, young Reynolds took it upon himself to do an inventory, according to him some of our enriched uranium is missing."

"Really, that's rather unsettling news."

"Exactly, and though untrue, it could bring potentially unwanted attention to our other projects."

"And what might they be?"

"Well, perhaps they're better seen than talked about. Tomorrow I'll take you on a tour of the labs and we can discuss them then. And as far as Dr. Reynolds, I hope to see to it that he is properly censured, if not dismissed."

"That remains to be seen, Doctor. In the mean time I think a full inventory of our uranium stockpiles first thing in the morning is in order. That way my and Dr. Jones' tenure here will start with a fresh slate per se." Napoleon said calmly," If you could be so good as to have that ready for us when we take our little tour?"

Fleming suddenly looked nervously at the three other colleagues that sat sipping their brandy. "Ugh, yes why of course. Dr. Rosenberg, you'll see to that first thing if you would be so kind?"

"Certainly Doctor." Rosenberg answered cautiously.

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind, it's been a long day, and I'm sure tomorrow will be as well." Napoleon announced, " So I think I'm going to turn in early if you don't mind. It's been a pleasure meeting you and I look forward to working with you all. Good night. " Napoleon begged off with a bow, then left them, but as a precaution, he stood outside the closed door listening carefully.

"Do you think he's legitimate?"Rosenberg asked.

"It doesn't matter, as we need to get those stockpile numbers up to where they should be. Use that grey clay that we had brought in to substitute for the shortage. And go do it now so it's ready for inspection in the morning."

"What about Reynolds?" A third man asked.

"He'll be seen to, now get going to the lab."

Upon hearing that Napoleon quickly disappeared down another hall, out of view until Rosenberg appeared, then he followed him as a discreet distance.

.

Colonel Mirgorodsky sat with some of the female scientists, feeling quite bored as all they did was sit and sip their tea making no conversation what so ever.

"So what do you ladies do for fun around here?"

"Fun?"

"Yes fun, like in recreation. Some of the men are rather cute...any action going on there?" She said just to get a rise from them, but her attempt failed miserably.

"We're not here for fun Professor Smith. We have important work to do here, and that does not include any nocturnal activities. I suggest you get your mind off that and focus on the job you have to do."

Mishi looked at the woman, not surprised that she had no interest in sex. She was the closest thing to a frizzy-haired frump that she'd seen in a long time. "No," she mused," this one's not getting any, that's for sure."

But she knew the woman was right, she needed to focus on the job at hand."Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you and thank you for the stimulating conversation, but it's been a trying day and I need to go to sleep. Have a wonderful evening.

"No, actually we'll accompany you upstairs. We usually go to bed pretty early around here." One of the other women said to her.

"Damn," Mishi cursed silently. She was hoping to get to their office to check their paperwork...shipping bills of lading and so forth. If she and Napoleon started digging into things, overtly looking for trouble, then that might alert the mole, or moles.


	7. Chapter 7

Mishi and the three other women trudged up to their rooms together, not saying a word. She waved to them congenially, wishing a good night then closed her door. After waiting a few minutes, she tip-toed out into the hallway, only to come face to face with _Miss_ _homely, _Regina Kleinshmidt, a heavy set woman with greying hair.

"Oh, hi. I left my compact downstairs." she smiled sheepishly.

"Don't worry, it'll be there in the morning," Regina mumbled as she lumbered off towards the ladies bath at the end of the hall.

"No that's alright, it's rather... sentimental to me. It belonged to my mother and I wouldn't want to take a chance on it being misplaced."

"Suit yourself," she answered then eyed her suspiciously before disappearing into the washroom.

Mishi moved carefully down the long wooden staircase; for some reason it and the interior of the house reminded her of the movie _Gone With the Wind,_ and she half expected a _Rhett Butler_ type to suddenly appear. But then she smiled to herself thinking that part would really belong to Napoleon.

She felt a sudden twinge of pleasure, picturing him throwing her down to a bed and ravishing her. "Get your head out of your..." she started to mentally warn herself when she was interrupted by male voices coming her way.

Mishi ducked down behind a dark green embroidered settee, located near the base of the stairs as she recognized the oncoming voices as those of Fleming and a few of the other men. There was no sign of Solo among them and that gave her a momentary cause for concern.

Once they were upstairs and out of view, she stood up, but then heard footsteps and ducked down again. It was the man Rosenberg and he was heading to the back hallway, the one that led down to the labs.

A few moments later Napoleon appeared, following him.

She stood up, surprising him and instantly his weapon was in his hand, pointing at her.

When he realized who it was, he shook his head then quickly holstered the gun; putting his finger to his lips to ensure she remained silent.

Mishi nodded, pointed to herself then towards the direction in which the offices were located.

Napoleon nodded his understanding, giving her the okay sign, then pointed to the door through which Rosenberg had disappeared, then to himself.

It was then the two went their separate ways without a word being said, each armed with their surveillance equipment to plant in their respective destinations.

Mishi took off down the hall, arriving at the office, and tried the handle on the door. She found it looked, which was no real surprise, plucked a lock pick from her hair and went at it and had the door open within a minute; this little talent thanks to Illya's handy instruction. Breaking and entering was not exactly part of the job description for a CID officer, but it was one of the side benefits of sleeping with a covert agent.

She thought about him for a moment as she slipped into the room, suddenly feeling a little guilty that she had practically thrown herself at his partner. Napoleon's loyalty to his friend, she supposed, was refreshing, just as Illya's shyness had been when they'd first met.

It was at that exact moment that she decided to give up hitting on Solo. Illya was special to her and she didn't want to hurt him.

And Napoleon was right, they were there to do a job and she needed to put her desires aside and just have to learn to control her urges. It was unfortunate that Illya had told her of Napoleon's way with women, and initially that made her wonder about Solo, and what he'd be like in bed, as the man possessed as seemingly a voracious sexual appetite as did she.

It was a shame though that in today's society, she would still be considered a slut, though she looked upon herself as a sexually liberated woman, while Solo was accepted as and looked upon as a lover. With the advent of the _Sexual Revolution_ things were slowly changing as social attitudes and behaviors were beginning to shift. Contraception was no longer in the hands of the male, as medically prescribed contraceptives were ushering a break with the old mores which limited a woman's sexual pleasure within the confines of marriage, yet allowed men's sexuality in public.

Gone were the days of when novels like D.H Lawrence's _Lady Chatterley's Lover,_ dealing with extramarital sexual independence that shocked an earlier generation, and now Henry Miller's _Tropic of Cancer _was influencing a new one.

She didn't become a Colonel in this man's army by sleeping around or being soft for that matter. "Snap to it soldier, and toe the line." she told herself.

Mishi went to the filing cabinets first, pulling files that related to shipments of uranium ore from the MacArthur River deposits in Canada, the missing uranium's signature matching the ore from that area.

She found the right file quickly, noting the amounts of uranium that had been received by the facility in recent months. According to her calculations there should be 30 kilograms on the premises at the moment. Now it was up to Solo to check on the inventory on hand to see how much more if any, was missing. Dr. Reynolds seemed as though he would be a likely ally for completing that task.

.

Napoleon walked behind Rosenberg at a safe distance, following him to the secure storage facility.

Rosenberg swiped his identity card, followed by a loud beep as it was accepted, then a buzzer and the door opened.

"Damn," Napoleon cursed, there would be no way of him getting in without Rosenberg hearing him. But then he watched the door as it remained open longer than expected and he slipped quietly inside before it closed.

He ducked into the safety of a small alcove and watched as Rosenberg handled what looked like greyish dull metallic discs of uranium.

Napoleon concluded that they couldn't possibly be real, as the man was holding them without wearing any sort of protective gloves or gear.

He received the confirmation to his assumption when Rosenberg dropped one of the discs and it shattered on the floor. It was nothing but grey clay.

"Shit!" Rosenberg barked, then disappeared to find something to clean up the mess.

Napoleon took a quick look at the storage canisters, lifting a few of them and finding the weight varying, even though the sealed containers were each marked as containing equal amounts of the uranium ore.

If the Colonel found the inventory records then that would be enough to satisfy the question of why the uranium continued to be stolen? Now they just needed to find out if more was missing that what had been initially reported by Reynolds and if so, where it had gone.

He knew that Illya was winging his way to New Zealand to investigate that end of the assignment, hopefully no more of the ore was en route to another part of the world.

The sound of approaching footsteps outside the door sent a shiver of panic up his spine. There was absolutely nowhere for him to hide.

Napoleon drew his glasses from his pocket and grabbed the nearest object to him, a clip board holding a few documents. He stood there pretending to read it but as he glanced at it, his brow furrowed when he realized it was an order for an additional 20 kilograms of enriched uranium to be shipped, coincidentally to a place called Chatham Island. It was dated five days ago.

As soon as the door opened Fleming became angered. "What do you think you are doing here?" He demanded. "How did you get in here, you have no authorized access for this place." Fleming then noticed the broken plaster laying on the floor.

"Ummm, I couldn't sleep and decided to wander around, take a tour of the door was open, and I saw no harm with walking in."

"I hardly think that."

Rosenberg chose that moment to reappear with a dust pan and broom.

"What's going on here?"

"That's exactly what we're trying to figure out...did you let this man in here?"

"Absolutely not Christopher. Why would you even think to ask me such a thing?"

"He claimed the door was open and since you are the only authorized person here with him, you've allowed him to see our little ruse and for that you will pay." Fleming suddenly drew a pistol from beneath his coat and shot Rosenberg, killing him instantly.

Napoleon remained motionless, not reacting to the gunshot or the dead man laying at his feet.

"So Napoleon Jones, if that is your name, who exactly are you? And why are you here? You are most certainly not a scientist as any man in that profession would be cowering at the moment, yet you are most calm and collected."

Several guards pushed through the door, restraining the Colonel by the arms as she struggled to free herself of their grip.

"Doctor, Regina spied this one going through the files in the office."

"Oh, so a cohort in crime," Fleming said. " Now are you going to tell me who you two really are and who you are working for?"

"You're familiar, I'm sure, with an organization called U.N.C.L.E. " Napoleon said.

"Damnation!" The Doctor cursed. "I should have connected the dots, the name Napoleon. Who else but Napoleon Solo would have such a ridiculous name!"

"I beg to differ on that." Solo challenged him.

"Central will not be happy about this, " Fleming growled to the others, "Get Reynolds; he most likely alerted the authorities to our operation."

He drew his attention to Mishi. "You are most certainly _not_ Illya Kuryakin, who are you then?"

"Colonel Michaela Mirgorodsky, Criminal Investigation Division of the United State Army."

"Oh man, UNCLE and the Army, we are so screwed," one of the other men blurted out.

Fleming flew into action. "We abandon the facility. Prepare the rest of the uranium for shipment, we leave for New Zealand as soon as everything is ready. I'll notify Central.

"What about these two and Reynolds?"

Tie them up, we'll be taking them with us. Perhaps Genius can make some amusing use of them in his tests."

Two hours later the lead scientific staff of Vintech were on a cargo flight departing Dulles airport accompanied by their security personnel. The premise being that the scientists were accompanying the bodies of four colleagues from New Zealand who had passed away in a lab accident.

Three of the coffins contained Napoleon, Mishi and Reynolds the fourth a lead-lined casket had the uranium inside in order to prevent detection of the radio active material by security. Vintech, the authorities were told, had been shut down for an appropriate mourning period.

Napoleon was in a near state of panic, hyperventilating as he struggled within the small box. His heart pounded wildly as he thought he was going to suffocate. He was completely bound, with duct tape over his mouth but then as he heard the jet engines roar and the movement of the plane, he fought to calm himself. They said they were going to New Zealand, so why go to all this trouble if they were going to just let him die in this coffin. He figured there had to be some light and air at the end of this tunnel.

He could hear the the jet engines roaring to gain altitude, as well as when the plane finally levelled off. There was a banging above his head, and a minute later the lid to his coffin opened and he breathed in fresh air.

They lifted him from it, ripping the tape from his face none too carefully, then removed the ropes from his feet. He was escorted with his hands still bound to a nearby seat. A few minutes later a flustered Mishi was shoved into the seat next to him, but there was no sign of Reynolds.

Fleming finally appeared, shaking his head. " I'm afraid Peter didn't manage the trip too well, I suspect he had a heart attack."

"It's your fault he's dead," Napoleon shot back, angry at the death of an innocent.

"It doesn't matter, " Fleming laughed, " He was a dead man anyway, as you and the Colonel will eventually be as well. Now I suggest you settle in, as we have a long flight ahead of us."


	8. Chapter 8

Illya read, slept, ate, slept then watched some of the in flight movie, listened to music, drank vodka, slept again and was bleary eyed when he finally deplaned from the Quantas jet-liner when it landed at Sydney airport. A twenty plus hour flight, without the company of his partner was not the most enjoyable of trips. At least with Napoleon present, there would have been conversation, and of course a sideshow of him flirting with and most likely picking up all of the stewardesses for rendezvous of some sort.

How Napoleon managed that without a cat fight ensuing was always a source of amazement to his Russian friend.

The plane taxied into position, stairs were rolled into place and Illya followed the other passengers out, leaving last. The comely blond stewardess touched his arm as he walked past her, bringing him to a momentary stop as she handed him a slip of paper with her telephone number. "I'll be in Sydney on layover for two days, call me?"

He smiled, then held up his hand showing her the wedding band he wore to use as a defense in such cases. That was better than disappointing her by not calling. "Thank you, I am flattered."

"Oh sorry," she blushed. "You have a good stay in Sydney then."

"My stay will be brief, as I will only be here for a day...business trip." With that, he exited the plane, walking down the steps to the tarmac.

He carried only a small valise with him, so there was no need to retrieve luggage from the carousel. Then lifting his dark glasses, he rested them on his brow as he scanned the crowd at the waiting area for a familiar face.

"Oi, mate!" A hand appeared from among the loitering bodies, then it was followed by the face of Steve Mannion, the number one agent in the Sydney office.

The two shook hands, having worked together on a few assignments in the past and were well acquainted with each other.

"G'day Stevo, good to see you again. How you going?" Illya spoke, using a bit of Aussie vernacular.

"I wouldn't be dead for quids!" He offered to carry Illya's suitcase but was waved off. " Howzit been with you in the States?

"The same I suppose, nothing ever changes." Illya said dryly.

"That's not what we hear, down here in the _Lucky Country_ word is

you and Napoleon had a bit of a rough time with a mob of smugglers in New York harbor."

"It was nothing more than you have dealt with my friend."

"Well, Good on ya, mate! You made it to live an fight the good fight another day"

"Yes I suppose we did. So where is that partner of yours? Illya changed the subject.

"That bludger Wes has himself laid up in hospital. Took a bullet in the bum on our last assignment, then nearly got himself ate by a big old croc. I told him only a wanker would take a bullet where he did," Stevo laughed.

"Was all they could do to keep him from crawling out of his bed to have a bit of a Barney with me. Then he tells me to bugger off. He's always a bit cranky when he's stuck in the medical wing, but I think my trying to t_ake the mickey out of_ him might have been a bit too much."

"I let him cool him off and brought him his favorite snack, a bit of bubble and squeak and snuck him a couple bottles of VB to boot. That made the bastard happy as a box full of birds...but not the Thrush kind, mind you. Wes'll be good as gold in no time, or so they say. So speaking of partners, how's that tin arse Napoleon doing?"

"Lucky as ever," Illya laughed.

"Ah the man is that, becoming a bit of a legend he is."

"Please do not tell him that; I still have to work with the man." Kuryakin joked.

As they headed outside Stevo glanced upwards, noting the rather spectacular tube-shaped, roll cloud, looking like it was literally _rolling_ in like a long, horizontal wave in the sky. "You couldn't have landed at a better time, looks like there's a buster coming this way."

They both could feel a distinct temperature drop as the winds began to pick up. "Best we get a move on before the storm breaks, these busters can be pretty nasty."

"Here we are, the green one," Stevo said pointing to the car parked not far from the airport entrance." Isn't she a beauty. Just got her."

Illya was a amused by all this, trying to remember the meanings of of half of the slang that Mannion was spouting.

"Ah yes, very nice, the _Premier_ _Model_ of the _EJ_ series, if I am not mistaken and the Australian car manufacturer Holden's more durable answer to the Ford Falcon."

"Right you are mate, nice sturdy little car, but she's a looker if I do say so myself."

They climbed into the vehicle, taking off on the fifteen minute ride to the Enmore section of Sydney. U.N.C.L.E. headquarters lay beneath the Duke of Edinburgh Hotel, situated in the heart of the historic suburb, and dated back to the late 1800's. It was an establishment that catered to the locals, with the Enmore Theatre is just a few doors down, and a thriving business that help maintain the hidden offices there.

The car had been battered by several strong gusts, and just as they opened the door to enter, a substantial wind hit, sending dust billowing inside.

"Oi, close that bloody door!" Someone yelled to them.

"Looks like we're in for it, there's a buster on the way lads." Mannion called out to the patrons. "Get while the getting's good."

"Think we'll sit this one out. The Missus is next door, so I've no worries!"

One of them called out. After that they mumbled among themselves and a few of the men went to the next bar, while some decided to leave.

Busters were serious business, Yachtsmen on Sydney Harbour knew to keep looking at the flags near Garden Island Naval base for the black flag that warned of these strong winds, to listen to the Marine Weather Channel and to watch for the "Roll Clouds" that preceded the cold front ahead of a cold southerly change in temperature. Those inland learned to recognize the signs, and check the local radio and television broadcasts.

And those that didn't care rode out theses storms in the local watering holes.

Following local tradition, there were separate entrances and drinking areas for men and women, since Australian pubs and drinking establishments were segregated along gender and racial lines.

Illya found it disconcerting that the indigenous aboriginals were prohibited and though such a policy was against U.N.C.L.E. precepts, the organization had no choice but to accept the host country's customs in order to maintain a presence down under. The current location for headquarters having been donated by the Australian government as part of their charter.

Section One hoped the local prejudices would some day change, and to make a point U.N.C.L.E. had several aboriginals on staff, working in communications as well as section three. There was one agent named Cameron Ngoombujarra, who was well on his way to being promoted to Section II.

Though there were rumors on the horizon of the government developing an assimilation policy in place that would be aimed at making Aboriginal people blend into white society as much as possible, Illya wondered what that would entail, and if it would endanger the indigenous people's way of life. Only time would tell.

_The Duke_ as the establishment was referred to, had several inter-connecting bar-rooms that clustered around a central bar area with several serving outlets. It also included an outdoor area known as a "beer garden", where food and drink was served and where recently families with children were able to eat, since children were not permitted in any other area of the pub.

It also included the "Ladies' Lounge" furnished with chairs and tables, where women and men could drink together, as women were not permitted in the men's bar.

There was a provision of rooms that were advertised for rental as accommodations located on the floors above the bar, but these rooms were in fact never rented out as they were part of the guest quarters for the operation that no one knew lay beneath the Duke of Edinburgh Hotel.

The pub was relatively spartan in design and decoration, the ceilings and upper walls fairly plain, with the exception of moulded Art Deco cornice and ceiling designs. The lower walls were tiled for ease of cleaning, and floors were usually paved with terrazzo tiles.

The mirror behind the main bar was covered with iconic, vintage paint-on-glass beer advertisements.

Mounted on the outer walls of the pub were eye-catching beer advertisements that were entirely hand-painted in reverse on thick glass, and then wall-mounted in heavy, highly polished brass frames. Some depicted typical 'Aussie' sporting scenes – swimming, surfing, sailing, horse-racing, cricket or football – or social events such as picnics, dances and parties.

Illya followed Mannion through the men's bar, with Stevo giving the barman a little salute. They walked into a black door marked _private_, and once inside, the barman pulled a worn brass beer tap twice to allow access to the secret entrance.

Inside the room, the back wall opened to reveal a flight of stairs. Stevo and Illya walked down to a secondary level, where they received their security badges then they stepped through the next entrance not unlike the one in the New York office.

Illya was not to report to anyone, as his assignment was out of New York and he was simply visiting headquarters here to get some sleep and pick up equipment that he would need in New Zealand. It was easier to do this than to lug a trunk filled with protective gear and geiger counters.

"Illya, I know you're pretty well knackered, but do you want some tucker before you hit the sack?"

"Mmm, yes some food might be a good idea." He answered with a yawn.

"Tell you what mate, I'll have a minced beef pie and a nice slice of pavlova sent up to you. How about some coffee to go with that?"

"I'll pass on the coffee but a pint of beer would go well with the meat pie as I am a bit thirsty." He smiled.

" Good on ya'..._a hard earned thirst needs a big cold beer and the best cold beer is Vic." _Stevo recited with gusto.

"_Victoria Bitter_!" The two of them repeated the end of the popular advertising tag line with a chuckle.

You've got it, it'll be up in two shakes, you just settle in." Stevo said as the elevator door closed in his face.

Illya stepped into his room, tossing his valise on the floor, heading to the bathroom to wash up. He looked in the mirror and noticed that his skin was looking a bit pink again, then threw water on his face before he applied some of the cream that Dr. Green in New York medical had given him. The orders were to apply it twice a day for skin irritation and he was warned firmly by the physician that if the instructions weren't followed to the letter, then his skin would fall off.

Illya snickered, as that perhaps was the most creative threat a doctor had ever given in order to force him to cooperate, but then again, one never knew with these medical people and decided it was better to err on the side of caution and follow the instructions as best possible. Though when out in the field, such things were not always possible.

By the time he was finished in the bathroom, his food had arrived. He downed one bottle of the VB before even starting to dig into the meal, then once he finished it he wolfed down the food. He stripped off his clothes, then finished the second beer before crawling into bed, falling asleep before his head barely hit the pillow.

Illya awoke the next day, feeling refreshed, showered and shaved and then dressed himself in more appropriate clothing. A pair of blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a long sleeved khaki shirt that covered his shoulder holster and weapon, left unbuttoned.

The sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window, then as he stepped out in to the corridor, it was surprisingly dark with the only light source being a red emergency light near the stairs and elevator.

He thought that odd, and immediately drew his weapon, as he pushed the elevator button. It was working and the doors opened as he stepped into it, pressing the number 2 for the lower levels where the conference rooms were located.

Illya pulled his communicator, contacting the office.

"Yes Mr. Kuryakin?" Answered a female voice.

"Is there a problem in headquarters, the emergency lights are lit in guest quarters."

"No major problem sir, the storm knocked out power in the area."

"Oh, alright. Thank you. Out."

A minute later the doors opened and Illya stepped out, finding the grey halls a flurry of activity.

"Good morning Mr. Kuryakin," one of the agents said to him. "If you're looking for Mr. Mannion, he's in his office."

He nodded his thanks, then made a right turn down the corridor where Steve's office was located. The pneumatic doors opened silently as the sensors detected his presence in front of them. Steve looked up from his desk with his usual smile.

"Morning mate, how'd you weather the storm last night, got pretty wild it did. Knocked the power out, that's why we're running on back-up generators."

"So I understand but I did not hear a thing last night." Illya was surprised the storm had not disturbed him.

"Well you couldn't have been dead to the world on two beers, you must have been really zonked."

"The winds gusted to nearly 100 km/h. Blackouts all over the city, plenty of property damage and uprooted trees, there was thunderstorms with hail and near fifty of the suburbs lost power after lightning strikes. Should have guessed this was coming as it's been unseasonably warm the last few weeks and with that temperature drop...knew it was going to be a good one. They say it wreaked havoc on the boats in Sydney harbor."

"You really were lucky your flight didn't get caught it that mate. Now what can I do for you today?"

"Stevo, I need to requisition this equipment and have it packed for a flight to Wellington." He handed a short list to the man.

"Radiation gear? You going to check out that freighter that ran aground on Chatham...no forget that I asked. I know you can't yak about it. Give me a bit to have this organized for you. Why don't you go to the cafeteria for some breakfast, don't bother venturing outside, there's a bit of a cleanup still going on, and no power either."

The roads were fairly clear, with only a few downed trees to dodge and the runways at the airport had been cleared allowing for take offs and landings, with only minor disruptions to flight schedules.

An hour later after having had a hearty meal, Illya was taken to the airport by Mannion in the "little beauty." The equipment needed was in a small steam trunk that was loaded along with the Russian onto a local cargo flight bound for Wellington airport in New Zealand.


	9. Chapter 9

The flight that carried Dr. Christopher Fleming and his prisoners prepared for it's arrival in New Zealand, scheduled to land at Auckland Airport on the North Island.

Napoleon and Mishi were treated decently for the duration of the flight, having been given food, water and restroom usage, but when it came time to land, they were forced back into the coffins.

The Colonel struggled desperately, wide-eyed with her blond hair flying as the thought of going back there sent panic though her.

"Stop!" Napoleon called to her. "You need to stay calm, it'll be alright."

"That's right Mr. Solo, tell her that." Fleming laughed as he jabbed a syringe containing a clear liquid into her neck. She collapsed into the guards arms then they lifted her into the casket. A piece of duct tape was put into place across her mouth as a precaution, but the drug they had given her was guaranteed to keep her out cold for at least a few hours.

"Well Mr. Solo, are you going to go easy?"

"Do I have a choice?"

The guards lifted him as well back into his coffin, Fleming injected him with the same drug, then Napoleon's eyes drifted closed. His mouth was taped as well and then the lid was sealed.

All four caskets on board were accompanied with false death certificates stating the bodies had been exposed to chemical and radiation contamination. The shipping documents stated they were lead-lined and secure, and not to be opened as a safety precaution.

The ploy worked, and they breezed through customs, with the caskets loaded onto a Bedford TK flatbed lorry then a large tarpaulin was lashed in place over them. The truck was accompanied by a several cars carrying Fleming and his scientists.

An hour later and just a half hour out of the town of Morrinsville, the lorry pulled off the motorway to a secluded area in the bush and away from prying eyes.

Napoleon was awake in his claustrophobic prison, breathing slowly to conserve his oxygen. He knew he had somewhere from three to four hours of air, but had no sense of time how long he'd been in there and hyperventilating would only use up the oxygen faster. He hoped the Colonel had the sense to do the same, but the look of panic he'd seen in her eyes made him concerned otherwise.

He knew he must have been loaded on to some sort of truck as the movement and periodic jostling felt as if they were moving along a road. Then the motion stopped.

There was the faint sound of footsteps, then he felt a gush of fresh air as his coffin was opened. Several pairs of hands pulled him from it none too gently, then dragged him off the back of the flatbed still bound, letting him fall to the ground.

He looked upwards when a pair of men's quarter brogue brown oxford shoes stepped in front of his face.

"Good to see you're still with us Mr. Solo." He said, pulling the tape from the agent's mouth

Napoleon stretched his jaw then spoke. "Where's Colonel Mirgorodsky?"

"Oh she's still alive and well in her little bed. Now I have a job for you," he said holding a shovel in his hands." I need you dig a grave, and if you don't cooperate, then I'll kill the Colonel. So no games Mr. Solo."

"Now untie him," Fleming ordered his men.

Napoleon stood, massaging his wrists once he was free of his bonds, then was handed the shovel.

He eyed the guard warily as he was shoved forward by him with the barrel of a Thrush rifle jabbed against his back.

"Dig there," the guard ordered.

As Solo dug into the earth, lifting the first bit of soft earth, the thought passed his mind that he was digging his own grave. But that didn't make sense, why would Fleming have gone to the trouble of transporting him to wherever they were, he presumed somewhere in New Zealand?

He was sweating profusely by the time he had dug a three by five foot hole, and that was when the guard stopped him.

"Alright Solo, you're done."

Napoleon half readied himself for a bullet, but then the guard told him to get out of the grave.

The body of Peter Reynolds was dragged over and dumped into it. "Now fill it up." They ordered the agent. "And hurry it up!

When the job was done, they tied Napoleon's hands again then as they were about to tape his mouth, he spoke up.

"Hey, a little water would be good before you do that?"

The guard looked to Fleming. "Alright give it to him, can't have him dying of thirst before we have need of him."

A canteen was lifted to his mouth, and he drank greedily with some of the liquid running down his neck onto his shirt, cooling him just a bit. Then he was hoisted back onto the lorry again. He saw they had opened the lid on Mishi's coffin, and her eyes met his, seeing a look of relief in them now that she knew he was alive.

Napoleon closed his eyes, trying to relax as he was put into the coffin again and it was sealed.

.

Illya's flight to Wellington was but a blink of an eye when compared to the transcontinental flight he'd taken to get to Sydney. He picked up the trunk containing his equipment at the luggage carousel, then loaded it onto a luggage cart. He headed outside of the terminal to find a cab to take him to a hotel, as he would have to wait another day to travel to Chatham Island; the freight service that flew there would not depart until the following day. The only other means to the island was by boat, a method of travel that Illya preferred to avoid not only because of his propensity to being sea sick, but also because the trip would take at least five days. Time was of the essence.

One of the city's Black White and Grey taxis pulled curbside and the driver called out to him.

"_Kia Ora_, how's it going mate? Where you heading to?"

Illya was surprised by the look of the man, who was obviously of Māori extraction, as he sported the _moko_ facial tattoos on his face, like the ones that he had seen in photographs in the travel book from Brentanos.

"Yes, _Tēna koe_, he greeted the man in Māori. then cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the intricate spirals of dark ink along the jaw-line and chin of the man'sface. "_Tēna koe_." The driver responded appropriately." Hey, not bad you know _te reo___the Māori language_.

"Just a few words and phrases. I hope my pronunciation was correct."

"It was spot on mate."

Illya smiled, pleased with himself. "I need a reasonably priced place to stay for the night. Could you recommend one? Definitely not a luxury hotel, most certainly nothing too expensive."

"Sure, no worries. There's the Thistle Inn, recon about twenty minutes drive from here, gives you a nice view of the city and the harbor."

"Sounds good."

The driver helped load the trunk into the boot, then with his passenger settled, the driver headed north on the motorway. He picked up the microphone to his radio, calling in to the dispatcher.

"Heading out to Mully, and Thistle." He indicated the slang for Mulgrave Street in Pipitea. Cabbies were prone to abbreviating their destinations.

"Roger that, might as well call it a day, take the arvo off. Not much traffic. Over."

"Take the afternoon off? Fair go Bob, but crikey, a fella's gotta make a living, over." The driver complained.

"Look Jollie, it is what it is, out."

"Stick a sock in it ya' bloody drongo," he muttered an insult to himself.

Exactly twenty minutes later, they arrived at the destination. "This is the oldest hotel in Wellington, it's good as gold when it comes to quiet." He pointed to the simple white two story building, set on a small rise.

"Excellent, that is what I prefer," Illya answered as the cabbie helped him inside with the luggage.

The man handed him a card. "If you're needing a way to get round town call me, as work's been a bit scarce. I'm sure you hear over the radio. The name's Rawiri Tahu but you can call me Jollie."

"Thank you Jollie, my name is Illya," he said taking the card. "I will need a pick up for tomorrow as I am taking a flight on the Bristol Freighter to Chatham Island in the morning, could you be here at eight?"

"Chatham? Very scenic, choc–a–block with sheep, but not much else. Plenty of fishing though."

Illya avoided answering Jollie's inference."You know the island well?"

"Yep, been there plenty times. Got a cousin who works out there, but it's a rough place. The island is about forty percent Māori and Moriori, still not a big mob living there, the rest are Pākehā_European descent.

"Then how would you like to act as my guide?"

Jollie hesitated. " Well see, I have my taxi job."

"I will make it worth your while, more than you would earn, say within a week?" Illya tried to entice him.

"A weeks pay?"

"At least." Illya smiled.

"I'm in mate. See you at eight then, and thanks heaps. _Haere rā_."

"_E noho rā_," Illya said good bye back to him.

Jollie left him, and Illya got his room with the trunk stored in the manager's office rather than lugging it up to the top floor.

He tossed his suitcase on the bed. The room was a perfect size and wonderfully uncluttered. Simple white walls, modernist bedside lamps, and a bed-foot throw which resembled a giant version of the country's iconic Kiwi bird. The living area was a real living area - not a couple of idly scattered chairs but also a sofa, coffee table, writing desk and sideboard for essentials such as coffee and other beverages.

Illya walked to the window. Jollie was right, this place offered a bird's eye view over the city to the harbor, and it made one feel connected to the cityscape. He thought about taking one of the cable cars for a quick tour, but regretfully there was just not enough time to explore it properly.

Illya drew the drapes and readied himself for a long night's rest. He would be free of Napoleon's interruptions, but then realized it bothered him that his partner was not there.

He shrugged, stripped to his boxers, then turned down the covers and climbed in, smiling. He missed Napoleon, but it was nice to have a bed to himself for once.

The next morning Jollie arrived on time, and again helped Illya load his luggage in the taxi.

"So are you still on to act as my guide?"

"Right mate, got it all sorted out with my job, so no worries."

They took off for the airport and by nine a.m. they were winging their way to the island on board the noisy plane that served the islands, a slow and noisy freight aircraft. The bulbous and cumbersome-looking aircraft had an unpressurised fuselage making it somewhat breezy.

These freighters were the major link between the Chatham Islands and the rest of the world, having a 'container' for the half of the aircraft given over to passengers, and the other for cargo, but in this case it was filled with pallets holding cages filled with chickens, there were several horses tethered in place, having been loaded into the opening of the nose of the aircraft. making the Russian cringe at the smell. He wondered if the trip by boat might not have been better.

"So tell me Jollie where is your iwi from?"

"My tribe? Oh, we are from the northeast part of the north island. I'm of the _Ngāti Kahu iwi. Ngāti Kahu_ their name from our founding ancestress, Kahutianui, and link our ancestry back to the waka Māmaru. The captain of _Māmaru _was Te Parata who married Kahutianui."

Illya was not familiar with the names, but knew that _waka_, the word for canoe carried cultural significance. "_Māmaru_?" He asked.

"Oh, in _Māori_ tradition, _Te Māmaru_ was one of the great ocean-going, voyaging canoes that was used in the migrations that settled New Zealand. The captain of the canoe was _Tūmoana_, whose wife was _Kahutianui-o-te-rangi__._ The _Ngāti Kahu_ _iwi_ take our name from _Kahutianui-o-te-rangi."_

"That is very interesting. I was reading a bit about your legends, is it true the north island is looked upon as a great fish?" Illya asked.

"Yes according our legend, the North Island is an enormous fish, caught by the adventurer _Māui._ For this reason, Northland sometimes goes by the nickname of "The tail of the fish", _Te Hiku o Te Ika_.

"_Kupe_ the first discoverer of New Zealand made landfall at the _Hokianga_, and was a great chief of _Hawaiki_ who arrived in here after he overcame numerous monsters and sea demons, including the great octopus named as _Te Wheke-a-Muturangi__,_ and discovered New Zealand. Returning to _Hawaiki_, Kupe told of his adventures and convinced others to migrate here with him.

"When _Kupe_ first came in sight of the land, his wife cried, _'He ao! He ao!_" meaning a cloud! A cloud!. The Great Barrier Island was therefore named _Aotea_, white cloud, and the long mainland _Aotearoa_, the name long white cloud was given. When Kupe finally returned to his homeland his people asked him why he did not call the newly discovered country after his fatherland. He replied, _'I preferred the warm breast to the cold one, the new land to the old land long forsaken'."_

Jollie spent most of the flight, talking about Māori legends and telling Illya how they all varied from tribe to tribe and of course, talking about the legend of _Paikea_ who could summon the whales; the Russian found it all fascinating.

_Waitangi_ was the main port and settlement on the southern shore of Petre Bay. It was on the west coast of the main island and by far the largest settlement in the archipelago, yet it had a population less than two hundred people. The U.N.C.L.E. agent's point of destination lay on the northeastern most tip of the island.

The noisy aircraft finally touched down at a grass-landing field at _Hapupu_, at the northeast side of the island. Few air craft apart from the Bristol Freighter had both the range to fly into the island and the ruggedness to land on the grass airstrip. Any one from _Waitangi_ would have to cross the Te Whanga Lagoon to reach the landing site, and that was a trip made possible only by truck with chains on their wheels. Otherwise, it was a very long, round about trip to get to where the Bristol landed.

Jollie helped Illya carry the trunk from the plane, then pointed to a corrugated metal hangar. "Man we in luck bro, my cousin's jeep is there. So we have transportation, if he's willing."

"_Kia Ora_!" Jollie called to a man dressed in brown coveralls, with his head buried under the bonnet of the car. The man hearing the familiar voice looked up, "_Haere Mai._" he greeted him back.

The two men approached then greeted each other in the Maori way giving welcome with the _hongi_, meaning the "sharing of breath." expressed by the rubbing or touching of noses, something akin to the Western custom of kissing someone by way of greeting.

"Jollie, haven't seen you in yonks!"

"Yeah right, ages. Illya, this is my cousin _Anaru_ _Matiu_, but you can call him Andy. Andy, this is Illya, he's hired me to show him round, he needs to get up to _Kaingaroa_." Unlike Jollie, Anaru had no _moko_.

"_Te Areo_," Illya greeted him.

"_Te Areo._" Anaru answered, eying the blond man. "You here to fish?" Andy asked."

"No actually I am an insurance adjustor." Illya lied. "The freighter _Chesapeake_ _Lady _has run aground in Kaingaroa Bay, and I am here to inspect it to see if she is salvageable."

Anaru looked with a furrowed brow, studying the fair blond dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, thinking he didn't look much like any insurance man. He took note that there was a suspicious bulge under the _Pākehā's_ jacket. "You're no _Kiwi_."He said referring to a New Zealander.

"No, I am British." Illya answered, suddenly becoming very aware of and correcting his accent.

"No jokin'. Insurance fella eh? Last time there was problems with a ship there, was way back in 1903 when the wool clipper _Loch Long_ was lost."

"Yeah, so, I was wondering if you could give us a lift up to the harbor?" Jollie interrupted.

"To _Kaingaroa_ Bay? That's a bit of a nowhere. Nothing but the fish factories up there, and what's left of your ship of course."

Jollie looked at Illya, giving him a signal about paying, rubbing three fingers of his right hand together.

"Oh, yes." Illya caught on. "I would be willing to pay."

"Fine then, give us a minnie. I have to do a few things on the Land Rover here, so head over to the cafe and get yourselves some grub."

A short while later Andy walked into the cafe. "Marama," he said addressing the woman running the place,"Give us a fizzy would ya?" He said asking for a soda.

"I see you ate," he noted to Illya as he opened the bottle of pop.

"Ate?" Jollie laughed out loud. " He's on his third helping of steak and oyster pie."

"Got quite an appetite on ya for a little fella," Andy remarked.

Illya swallowed his last mouthful. "High metabolism."

"High what?" Andy asked.

"Never mind." Illya smiled," Suffice to say, I like to eat, but burn it off quickly."

"Oh right, gotcha. Well the jeep's ready when you mob are."

They loaded the trunk into the back of the beat-up Land Rover.

Andy looked at Illya's feet. "You need some Gummies I recon it's going to be pretty mucky out there."

"Gummies?" The Russian was lost on that one.

"Gumboots."

"Oh, like Wellingtons?"

"Right, we'll get you outfitted right quick at the hardware then."

Illya purchased a pair of the high black rubber boots as well as a pair for Jollie, since Andy cautioned them the Rover could get stuck in some of the muck along the way.

Then the Russian pulled his sheepskin jacket from his suitcase as it was windy with a lot of cloud cover, making if feel cooler than the 12˚centigrade that a thermometer on the wall in the cafe had indicated.

Andy went over the simple but rugged route with them. "We'll skirt up along the coast and catch _Taia Hapupu_ Road up to the North Road, then to _Kaingaroa_ Road to the harbor."

The journey was long enough, and a few times Illya felt as though his insides were about to rupture from the jostling trip in the ute, but the landscape in all it's rugged beauty made up for the rough with volcanic peaks thrusting up out of rolling peatland, forest topped towering sea cliffs, the vast expanse of endless kilometres of sandy beaches and the ever present ocean was breath taking.

They were not far from the _Chesapeake_ _Lady _where she lay aground on the rocky shoreline. Then Illya spotted activity on the deck of the ship, people dressed in protective gear, the same as he had brought with him.

He told Andy to back the jeep off out of sight, and when they were safely tucked out of view, the Russian opened his trunk and took out the protective white suit out, draping it over his shoulder.

Then he drew his Walther, much to the concern of Jollie and is cousin.

"What ever you see or hear, do not come after me." Illya warned as he walked towards the rocky shoreline.


	10. Chapter 10

Napoleon felt the lorry come to a stop, and again heard the footsteps approaching, an then there was the gush of air as his tomb was reopened.

They pulled him out into the daylight, this time the sun was bright and his eyes squinted from the brightness.

Mishi was being lifted out as well, and he saw again how reddened her face was, and that wild look was still in her eyes.

She swayed, and was unsteady on her feet, though one of the guards tried to help her.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" She barked, pulling away but still staggering.

"Now now Colonel," Fleming called to her from the ground as he stood beside the truck," that's not very lady-like language is it?"

"Up yours Fleming!"

"If you would please?" Fleming called to the guard next to her.

The man back handed her across the face. "Enough!" He growled.

Napoleon lashed out, kicking the guard in the the stomach and sending him flying off the flatbed, but ceased any other action as he heard Thrush rifles being cocked.

"Mr. Solo, such gallant actions will get you nowhere." Fleming called out then laughed."Save your energy as I think you'll be needing it soon enough. Now let's go."

Napoleon was finally joined by the Colonel as they were lifted down from the back of the truck as their hands were still bound.

"You alright?" He asked her.

"What the hell do you think?" She snapped at him; the shaking in her voice gave him a better answer to his question.

"I wasn't claustrophobic before, but I think I am now." She then said a little more calmly. "Where are we Napoleon?"

"Somewhere in New Zealand."

"New Zealand but that's where..."

"Shush," he whispered." Don't say it. That may be our ace in the hole. We've missed our check-in with Waverly, so I'm sure our friend is aware of the situation. He has a way of putting two and two together and finding me...I hope."

"Stop talking!" A guard slammed a rifle butt into Solo's back, making him stumble.

He flashed the guard a dirty look for that.

"Wipe that look off your face Solo."

They were led down to a picturesque strand,_ Pohutukawa_ and _Kauri tree_-fringed with colorful flora and tranquil white sands dotted by rugged rocky coves and crystal clear blue waters

It looked like a bit of Paradise to Napoleon, but then the rifle shoved into his back again called him to reality.

They walked a short distance down along the water's edge to a twelve foot wooden dinghy that was beached.

Fleming and some of the scientists boarded it, then Napoleon and Mishi were helped into it, the guards shoved off then hopped in themselves.

Napoleon scanned the calm waters, looking for any sight of a larger boat but saw nothing. "Where are you taking us?" He asked.

"Patience," Fleming laughed as his men continued to row the boat out farther into the bay.

They were quite a ways out into the vivid blue water, when the surface started to churn around them, and suddenly a pod of dolphins appeared, with their blowholes spouting into the air. Some of them came in closer making long arking leaps and spectacular spins in the air as they hovered around the wooden boat.

Something struck Solo odd about this group of dolphins, they weren't all of the same species. He recognized Bottlenose, Dusky and Common dolphins among them, and a few others he wasn't familiar with.

Then something large began to break the surface next to them, at first he though it was a whale, but when a significant amount of bubbles ran along the length of the dinghy, he knew he was wrong.

A fair sized submersible surfaced along side, and minutes later its hatch opened, with Fleming stepping aboard. One by one the other scientists followed going down into the sub as he waited topside.

"Now Mr. Solo, your hands will be released in order for you to board. If you try anything at all, the Colonel will be shot."

Napoleon flashed Mishi a concerned look then set his jaw and nodded his agreement to Fleming.

He rubbed his wrists from the chafing of the ropes, then stepped across to and descended into the submarine and a minute later the Colonel followed.

Napoleon put his arm around her, pulling her close to him. "You okay?"

"Not doing good with the claustrophobia thing again," she said nervously.

"Hey, I'm here." He smiled, trying to reassure her.

"I know, do you really think we'll get out of this?"

"We've got the Solo luck on our side... and _he'll_ find us don't worry."

"I hope so," she sighed.

The hatch was sealed and the sub dove beneath the gentle, clear waters of the bay.

"May I direct your attention to the porthole," said Fleming.

Napoleon and Mishi pressed their noses to the glass, seeing schools of fish dart past, like flashes of brightly color spotlighted in the rays of sunlight shimmering down through the water.

Some of the dolphins that first greeted them looked inwards, peeking at the humans behind the glass.

"Dr. Fleming, isn't it a bit unusual to have different species of dolphin forming a pod?" Napoleon asked.

"Very astute of you to notice. It has been noted that some species will swim with the pod not of their kind. It will all be explained when we reach our destination...there." He pointed to the porthole.

Napoleon leaned to Mishi, whispering to her. "This is no pod, every one of those dolphins are of a different species."

She shrugged, not understanding the significance of that statement."

Not far from them they saw beneath the surface a large domed structure. Napoleon guessed an underwater habitat of sorts.

The submersible maneuvered beneath it, then docked with it with a loud thump, moments later the hatch was opened. But before leaving the sub, Fleming cautioned his prisoners.

"I will leave you unbound with the understanding that there is no way for you to escape this facility. It has full video surveillance and the only way off is via this submarine... that does not remain docked here. And don't think about trying to fire any weapons as any gunfire within the habitat could shatter the protective dome and you would cause everyone within, including yourselves, to drown."

Napoleon cocked his eyebrows as drowning was something that was a private fear. "Understood Doctor," he nodded.

One by one they climbed up the ladder, emerging into a completely different world. The habitat was like being inside a fishbowl, but with the fish on the outside.

The under sea life surrounded them, the dolphins, swirling schools of snapper, bright snapper, tarakihi, kahawai, cobalt blue Demoiselle fish, white spotted Demoiselle and other species glided with the ebb and flow of the current as they ignored the humans.

Suddenly the schools scattered as a giant fish swam among them. At first it appeared black and had to be nearly seven feet long, moving along at a leisurely pace as it stared into the dome. The light from above caught it, changing it's color, with bright yellow iridescent markings on its blue head as it shifted its position in the water.

"Quite fascinating are they not?" said Fleming," Ironically enough that big one is called a _Napoleon Wrasse_, but enough of the outside world. Come let me show you this world."

Napoleon and Mishi were given the tour of the kitchens, dining areas, and what looked like a room with a pool inside, but when Solo spotted diving gear, he knew that was a way out.

Then lastly they were lead to the next section of the habitat that was a laboratory of sorts, filled with equipment. There were several tanks containing dolphins that had some sort of electrodes attached to their heads, with wires running from them to a large computer like machine.

There stood a small man, outfitted in surgical garb hunched over a stainless steel operating table. He was concentrating on the the cranium of the fairly large bottlenosed dolphin laying there and looked to be stitching closed an incision.

"Doctor," called Fleming.

"Not now Christopher, can't you see I'm busy? Give me a moment."

The fellow took a pair of scissors, snipping the thread and indicating to his burly assistants to put the creature into a tank immediately.

"Now done," he announced, turning to Fleming."And who do we have here?"

"Evelyn, the prisoners I told you I was bringing, for your research?"

"Oh yes yes, now I remember." He eyed Napoleon and Mishi up and down. "I think they'll do nicely, fine specimens, fine."

Napoleon eyed the man back, watching as he stepped down from the platform next to the operating table to the floor. He stood less than five feet tall, with fine, almost elfin features, with salt and pepper grey hair tied back into a ponytail.

"This is Dr. Evelyn Genius," announced Fleming." And this Doctor, is Napoleon Solo of U.N.C.L.E. and Colonel Michaela Mirgorodsky, of the Amercian Army CID."

"Impressive," smiled Dr. Genius."But not so impressive that they let themselves be captured by you Christopher. Take them to their quarters. I won't be ready for them for a few days." He waved dismissively, then walked away.

"And clean them up please. Dinner will be at seven." Genius turned back to tell them.

They were lead to adjoining bedrooms, with the walls and ceilings completely open to the view of the water.

Napoleon's bed was large, circular with a comforter covering it that was the same bright aqua color of the water. The chairs and tables were clear acrylic like the dome above him. He looked up, the movement above catching his attention again.

He suddenly found himself a little aroused, thinking of making love to a woman in such a world within a world, with the aquatic scene alive and moving sensually around them.

Napoleon shook himself free of the feeling, turning to the door, checking and finding it surprisingly unlocked.

Venturing back out to escape with Mishi would have probably been easier than he first imagined, since after catching a glimpse of the diving suits, he knew the " no way out" warning by Fleming was a lie. But for the moment he needed to see what these people were up to and would plan he and Mishi's escape accordingly.

He walked into the bathroom, which at least had a modicum of privacy, with a suspended opaque ceiling and walls. After removing what remained of his once pristine designer suit, he stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade down his sore and bruised muscles.

After toweling himself dry, he located a beige jumpsuit in the closet and slipped into it, comfortable but a bit baggy for his taste.

Then he stepped out to Mishi's room, knocking on the door first.

"Who is it?" She called out.

"Napoleon, may I come in...are you decent?"

"Unfortunately yes."

The Colonel was sitting on the edge of a bed identical to his, the furnishings being the same as well. She was dressed in a black and beige pencil skirt, with an aqua blouse that was a bit tight for her figure, revealing a bit more of her cleavage. Solo had to admit, she looked more serene now and quite desirable.

He sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders, looking into her eyes, something he knew he shouldn't have done. "We'll get out of this, I promise."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Trust me," he said leaning in, letting his lips meet hers. It was a long, kiss, but not filled with passion. It was one filled with doubt and tinged with the fear of the unknown.

Solo pulled back, stopping himself from going further, having meant only to comfort her. An Mishi did not pursue the opportunity his embrace had offered, as she'd promised herself not to.

"We're going to make it through; I do this kind of stuff for a living, and besides, I told you Illya will find us."

"Do you have any idea where we are Napoleon?"

"New Zealand," he chuckled.

"Be serious."

"Sorry, haven't got a clue."

"So if we don't know where we are, how can Illya know?"

"He has a way of finding things out."

"Yes, you're certainly right about that," she smiled.

.

Evelyn Genius watched the two on his monitor, disappointed that his voyeuristic needs would not be fulfilled. They seemed to be strong-willed and that pleased him, as that would make the experiment all the more interesting. Then he wondered who this Illya person was.

A moment later his question was answered when a small, hand-held radio on his desk came to life.

"Sir, we have a problem." The voice said at the other end.

"There's an U.N.C.L.E agent here at the _Chesapeake Lady_. His name is Kuryakin, Illya Kuryakin."


	11. Chapter 11

As he neared the freighter, Illya quickly dressed himself in the radiation suit then sauntered up the gang plank that had been lowered to the beach side where the boat was listing. He carried the Geiger counter with him and if he was questioned his story would be that 'the boss told him to monitor the radiation levels.

The deck was strewn with bloated bodies, but from their appearance it was clear they had died of radioactive contamination.

Several men walked towards him carrying a small crate between them, bearing the distinct labels warning of radioactive material.

They passed him, taking no note of his presence as he went down below, locating the cargo hold quickly. As he stepped inside, the Geiger counter's meter jumped, buzzing wildly. It was no wonder, as there were dozens of crates there, with one of them having been opened and emptied most likely by an ignorant crew member, with some of the ore still lying on the floor.

It was obvious that there was more than 10 kg. here, as to Vintech being the sole source, that now became doubtful in his mind.

He headed up to the deck, intending to leave, since there was no way he could stop this many men. Best for him to contact Waverly and get some help sent down from Sydney for this situation.

Illya ducked behind the bulkhead, removing his head covering and pulling his communicator. "Channel D- overseas relay. Waverly, please," he whispered.

"Your report?" Waverly responded in a voice that was too loud, given the Russian's location.

"Sir if you could speak more softly, I am in a vulnerable position at the moment."

"Of course." He answered, his voice more subdued. There was a pause, and Illya realized the Old Man was waiting for him to speak. " I am on the _Chesepeake Lady_ sir, and there seems to be a lot more than 10 kg. of ore in the cargo hold. Has Mr. Solo found additional uranium missing in Virgina?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Solo is more than twenty four hours overdue with his check-in. That being the case, agents from our Washington office were sent to Vintech and found the facility abandoned with a good portion of the personnel murdered. The was no sign of either Mr. Solo or Colonel Mirgorodsky and the remaining stores of enriched uranium were gone as well."

His heart sank at the news, then suddenly he stiffened as he felt something hard pressed against his back.

"Mr. Kuryakin, are you there?" Wavely called to him.

Illya slowly raised his hands above his head, still holding the open communicator.

A gloved hand reached out, snatching it from him, tossing it to the deck and he watched as it was crushed by a rather large boot.

"Alright mate, off the boat." A gruff voice ordered him.

Illya walked down the gang plank with his hands clasped, resting on top of his head. Once they had reached the shoreline he was ordered to remove his gear, allowing them to get a better look at him.

"Skinny little fella." The one of them seemingly in charge remarked."Alright, who are you and what you doing here?" His accent was clearly Australian.

"Oh just a tourist, doing touristy things." Illya quipped, but that quickly earned him a fist in the stomach.

"Search him."

They removed his sheepskin coat, with their efforts revealing his Special, back up pistol and several throwing knives. Luckily they did not discover the explosive putty in the heel of his shoe, nor the hidden knife masquerading as a buckle on his leather belt.

They removed his wallet, helping themselves to his cash, then withdrawing his gold ID card and recognizing it instantly.

"Boss is going to go wobbly on this one, maybe we shouldn't tell him we let an U.N.C.L.E. agent sneak up on us like."

"I don't care if he throws a tantrum or not, we have to report this," the leader said, pulling a radio from a satchel slung over his shoulder.

"Hey Sparks," he called a radio man."

"Yeah, Mike?"

"Patch me through to the Doctor right quick, we've got a bit of a situation here."

"Hey the boss'll have up at you for that," the radioman replied.

"I don't give a rat's ass, you stickybeak sheepshagger, now mind your business and patch me through."

"Screw you, Ocker. Here's your patch, go ahead."*

"Sir, we have a problem," said Mike. "There's an U.N.C.L.E agent here at the Chesapeake Lady. His name is Kuryakin, Illya Kuryakin"

"Illya did you say?" Genius smiled. "How fortuitous. And just exactly what was he doing?"

"Caught him snooping around with a Geiger counter, and he's seen us off loading the crates. Want us to get rid of him?"

The Doctor smiled. "Yes you do that Michael. How soon will you be ready to sail with the cargo?"

"Within the hour sir."

"Excellent, take care of things and I well see you when you arrive at the facility. Genius out." That news pleased him and he would use it to torment his guests a little bit, taking the wind out of their sails knowing their savior had been eliminated.

.

"Right, you heard the boss, we're to take care of this one. Tie his hands behind his back, then let's have at him for a bit of fun."

Illya was bound, then the Thrushmen proceeded to beat him up. He tried to defend himself, throwing a few kicks but there were simply too many of them and with his hands bound, he was losing his balance too easily.

Finally he fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him, and after a few well placed kicks, they dragged him to his feet and down the beach towards the rusting remains of one of the old fish factories located along the western shores of_ Kaingaroa Harbor_.

"We still heading to Doubtless Mike?" One of them asked the leader.

"Yeah ye drongo, of course we are."

"Hey I'm not stupid you know, I was just asking."

"Well then stop asking." Mike snapped at him." and keep your laughing gear shut."

They dragged Illya through the abandoned site, following along the remnants of some railway tracks probably used at one time for the on and off loading to fishing boats. Then they came to stop at a dark, barnacle encrusted rocky shaft not far from the waters edge.

It was deep enough that when Illya peeked into it, he was unable to see to the bottom. Guessing the diameter of the opening it looked to be approximately four to five foot square, not too big.

He had no idea of the purpose of the shaft but the presence of the parasitic barnacles meant there was sea water in it at times, no doubt coming in and out with the tide.

"End of the line for you Kuryakin," Mike laughed with an air of satisfaction in his voice..

Illya was annoyed, as the man was wearing his sheepskin. He liked that jacket...

"You would not want to talk this over a drink perhaps, it is a little chilly out here?" Illya hedged."Could I at least have my jacket back, please?"

"You know that drink sounds like a good idea, for us that is. And as for the jacket...you're not going to need it where you're going."

He snickered at Kuryakin's feeble attempt to delay the inevitable. "Don't worry, you'll have company real soon," the man gestured with his fingers making them look like little pincers, indicating there would be crabs and other such crustaceans down there."

"So long ye wanker," he said, giving the Russian a shove with his foot.

Illya went head first down into the dark opening, snapping his body inwards in the hopes of protecting himself while plummeting downward. He let out a cry of pain as his back slammed against the wall, strafing across the barnacles that tore through his T-shirt and into his flesh as he fell, hitting bottom with a thud and was knocked into unconsciousness.

He woke to the sounds of sloshing water as the tide was rising through a metal grate beneath him and there were the clickity-click sounds of what he could see looked like paddle crabs scuttling around him having come up out of the wet sand, waiting for him to become bait for their next meal like some dead fish.

They could be very aggressive and were known for feeding on any sort of animal material, including live shellfish such as _cockles_, _pipis,_ _tuatua, _dead fish and other carcasses.

He yelped as one of of them suddenly grabbed at his fingers with its powerful claws.

Illya hiked himself painfully to a sitting position, looking upwards to the light from the opening. Once his eyes adjusted to the dimness he could see nothing but layers of those sharpened barnacles on the four walls.

"This is going to hurt," he told himself as he began rubbing his bindings against them until little by little the sharp surface cut through the ropes. He rubbed his wrists as he stood up, pleased that he hadn't injured them then took a deep breath as pushed his back against one wall.

Illya let out a gasp of pain, then as he reached up with his foot against the other wall, he hiked himself up one step at a time, climbing up the shaft like a human spider, gritting his teeth in pain.

Each time he shifted his back, pressing it against the wall to continue his upward movement, the barnacles cut into him. He was shivering with the wet and cold as the operation took around more than thirty minutes for him to near the top. But as he did, that's when he felt his strength drain, as the effort and the pain became overwhelming.

Illya felt himself begin to slip, then suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulders and hoisted up and out into the light with a mighty groan.

"Hey little _Pākehā_, it's okay, we here bro." Jollie reassured him. The Russian looked up from the ground, staring at the faces of the two Māori.

"I told you not to come after me, no matter what," he gasped.

"Sorry, that's not how we do things down under," Andy said while he and his cousin helped Illya to his feet and untied his hands.

He turned his head quickly, looking for a Thrush presence.

"No worries, your friends took off in their boat about ten minutes ago."

Together they doubled back along the railway tracks as they followed the shoreline among the remnants of the factory there; rotted barrels, a rusting aged truck, decrepit remains of keels, huge anchors and other ship parts lay half buried among the weeds with bits of corrugated metal strewn everywhere.

Jollie and Andy supported Illya between them, trying to offer him some body heat as he continued to shiver violently.

The gravel beneath their feet crunched as the cries of cormorants and albatross echoed, soaring on the air currents out over the bay. A lone brown fur seal scrambled from the strand into the water with a rolling motion, using its flippers to propel itself forward to escape the three humans.

When they finally reached the utility vehicle, Andy grabbed a blanket and first aid kit from the back as his cousin help stripped Illya of his wet clothing.

Andy cleaned the cuts on his back as best he could, applying bandages to the worst of them, at the same time he took note of the surprising number of scars already on the man's torso.

The Russian's shoulders began to slump as he tried to remove the rest of his wet clothing by himself.

"Come on little _Pākehā_, drop your gear**.** You need to get into some dry duds." Jollie warned.

After a few minutes Jollie succeeded in getting Illya into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then kept the blanket wrapped around him.

It was then that Andy challenged the cover story he'd been told. "You're no insurance man bro, what gives?"

Kuryakin straightened his shoulders. "No you are right. I am an agent for an organization called U.N.C.L.E. and I was here tracking a shipment of stolen enriched uranium. That was what those men were off-loading from the ship. They work for an organization called T.H.R.U.S.H. whose sole aim is world domination. Right now their current scheme involves the building of nuclear bombs."

"So you're some sort of _demon_?"

"Demon? I do not understand, I am not an evil spirit or devil."

"No mate, that's slang for a cop round here." Jollie laughed.

"Oh, yes then, I am with law enforcement per se. U.N.C.L.E. stands for the _United Network Command for Law and Enforcement._"Illya let the control of his accent slip, no longer concerned about keeping up the pretense.

"Crikey dick, you ain't a Brit either, where you from?" Andy asked.

"I am from Russia but I live in and work out of New York. Now if you could do me another favor...there is a silver pen in the side flap of my suitcase, could you get it for me please?"

"And these Thrushie blokes, who are they?"

"They are an insidious group of people. The meaning of their name says it all..._Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity."_

"Wow sounds positively mad."

"Yes it is sort of crazy, they are unrelenting in their never ending and vile schemes." Illya said, his voice sounding stronger. He opened his communicator pen, thankful that his instincts had told him to bring a backup this time. "Open Channel D- overseas relay."

"Mr. Kuryakin, what the devil happened to you?" Waverly balked.

"I was temporarily side tracked. Sir, I have some bad news. Thrush got the rest of the shipment."

"That is unfortunate Mr. Kuryakin, unfortunate indeed. Do you have any idea where it's being taken?"

"Not as of yet sir, the person it is being taken to was referred to as Dr. Genius."

"Hmmm," pondered the Old Man, "That name is sounding familiar, I'll have to get research to look further on it. Anything else Mr. Kuryakin?"

"One of the men mentioned the word doubtless."

Upon hearing that Jollie became very animated, waving his hands to get Illya's attention.

"Excuse me a moment sir, I may have an answer to that."

"Bro that's Doubtless Bay on the North island."

"Mr. Waverly, I have just been informed that it is a bay located on the..."

"Northeast." Jollie whispered.

"On the Northeast coast of the North island of New Zealand."

"Excellent, then that's a start. Keep me informed of your progress."

"Excuse me sir, but any word from Mr. Solo?"

"No I'm afraid not, best not to dwell on that and stay focused young man. Waverly out."

Illya tucked the communicator into his pants pocket, looking disheartened at the news.

"Hey bro who's this fella Solo? You looking like it's the end of the world for you?" Jollie asked.

"Mr. Solo, Napoleon is my best friend and my partner. We are a team. I am concerned that something bad has happened to him and another friend... a woman."

"Hey mate if he's half as tough as you are then I bet he'll be right as rain. And your woman, bro...bet he's taking good care of her."

"That Jollie, can be looked upon from several different viewpoints," Illya muttered, surprising himself that he did not take umbrage to Mishi being referred to as his girlfriend.

The Māori looked at him with unsure eyes but the agent diverted his attention back to the matter at hand. "Are you familiar with this Doubtless Bay?"

Jollie smiled. "Do I know it, that's where our _iwi_ is from, our _whanau's_ _Marae_ is on _Karikari Peninsula_ on the northwest side of Doubtless Bay."

"I know a _Marae_ gathering place, but what is a _whanau_?"

"Kinfolk bro, family."

Illya turned to the cousin. "Andy is there another means of transportation off this island besides the Bristol Freighter?"

"Boat...but that would take too long. Say, there's a fella that owns a sea plane up the coast, at _Taupeka_, near the eastern tip of the island, recon just under 10 km. from Cape Young."

"Does this plane take private charters?" Illya smiled.

"For a price," Andy snickered. "If you don't mind dealing with bit of a dishonest bloke."

"Smuggler?"

"Yep."

They headed up the coast to _Taupeka_, though on this route the landscape changed, with sandy hills behind and behind them it became wooded a short distance inland.

When they arrived at the bay, they found a four prop Sunderland Mark III, anchored in the bay, It was an old plane used during the war but was now been demilitarised with the armament removed, the gun positions covered over, and simple seating fitted in place with space for freight.

After some negotiation, the Aussie pilot named Rick agreed to take them to _Karikari Peninsula_.

"Give my best to my dad will ya Jol?" Andy asked as they said their good byes to him, then Illya and Jollie headed out with Rick in a dinghy to the plane that was anchored a few hundred yards off shore, near the _Ngatikitiki_, four needle-like rocks in the middle of harbor.

The take off was smooth, and Illya settled into his seat mindful of his back, but still wrapped in the blanket that Andy had given him. "Once we reach _Karikari,_ I think it best for you to return to your _Marae_. This is going to get quite dangerous and I cannot risk having you injured."

"Hey little _Pākehā_, I'm in this whether you want me or not. You're a likable fella, and I don't want to see you get roughed up again. I'm thinking you'll need help."

Illya didn't argue and simply closed his eyes, letting sleep take him for now.

.

Authors note:

stickybeak sheepshagger, is derogatory slang for a New Zealander

Ocker is slang for an Australian

Pākehā is Maori for a non-New Zealander, usually of European ancestry

drongo is an idiot


	12. Chapter 12

"Ah Mr. Solo, Colonel Mirgorodsky welcome, please be seated, " said Dr. Evelyn Genius as he sat at the head of the long clear plexi-glass table.

Napoleon and Mishi were escorted there and seated by a guard along with Fleming and his entourage of scientists from Vintech.

The doctor motioned for a white gloved and jacketed servant to begin serving them a rather exotic looking meal, an appetizer of greenshell mussels stuffed with scallions, shallots, red grapes, plum sauce, seaweed salad with other spicy garnishments.

The main courses were then served; groper steaks barbecued in queen scallop cream, a local sounding dish called _hapuka te puke_... fillet of _Hapuka_ fish with bananas, kiwi fruit, red and green capsicum, tomatoes...and a number of other ingredients that Napoleon couldn't quite identify, but filled the room with a pungent aroma.

Midway through the meal the conversations began and the Doctor spoke out to the U.N.C.L.E. agent.

"Yes," Genius said, tasting a forkful of the groper," this food is truly a gift of the sea, abundant and there for the taking. So what do you think of my facility Mr. Solo?"

"Impressive if you like living in a fish bowl. So what's the purpose of all this Doctor... what sort of doctor are you, by the way?" He smiled impishly.

"I am a Marine Biologist, why do you ask?"

Napoleon crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Just wondering where the uranium was coming into play."

"I thought you'd get around to that. But come sir, you already experienced one of our mini bombs in Nevada."

Napoleon still looked perplexed and Genius smiled. "You see I have this marvelous invention that I came up with. I call it my Pelorus device. Do you know what a Pelorus is Mr. Solo?"

"As a matter of fact I do, I happen to enjoy doing a little sailing now and then. In appearance and use, it resembles a compass, with sighting vanes or a sighting telescope attached, but it has no directive is, it remains at any _relative_ direction to which it is set. It's useful, for instance, in determining the moment at which an aid to navigation is broad on the beam."

"Correct Mr. Solo. My Pelorus in this case uses miniature electronic chips implanted into the brains of certain cetaceans and using transcranial magnetic stimulation I can control their actions. Just as magnetic north controls a compass, so my device works basically using the same principle of magnetism, so it is a sort aid to help me navigate my subjects." "I have worked specifically on dolphins and whales as they are of a higher order and it has done quite well to make them...obedient, and therefore eliminates the need for training; thus taking this sort of thing years ahead of your U.S. Navy Marine Mammal Program."

Napoleon's eyes widened when he put two and two together. "No, don't tell me your using guidance-controlled animals to deliver nuclear bombs?"

"Very good Mr. Solo, that is precisely correct. We nearly have enough specimens in the program to begin our plan to disrupt world-wide shipping. Thrush will bring the world economy to it's knees. The nations of the world will have no choice but to surrender control of their governments to us, or suffer complete economic shut down."

"If there is no cooperation, there will be global suffering and death as food, medicines, essential supplies, oil and fuel will not be shipped. Yes limited goods could be shipped by air at first, but then once fuel supplies become scarce, certain countries will find themselves cut off. Especially when we destroy some of the oil sources in the Middle East."

"You have it all figured out don't you?" The Colonel finally spoke up. "But your plan won't work."

"And why is that my dear?"

"Be...because we're going to stop you.'

Genius, Fleming and the other guests at the dinner table burst out into uncontrolled laughter.

"You don't think we can't?" She snarled back at them with false bravado.

"Hardly," Genius answered, continuing to chuckle. "You see, you and Mr. Solo are going to be the first human recipients of my Pelorus device. Guinea pigs, I suppose, to see if humans can tolerate the device. What better experimental subjects but a male and female possessing strong willed determination."

Napoleon swallowed hard, pushing his dinner plate away, having suddenly lost his appetite.

"Oh and yes Mr. Solo, I thought you would like to know that your partner Mr. Kuryakin will not be coming to your aid."

Napoleon showed no surprise at the mention of Illya's name. "Who's that?" He asked in a calm and assured voice.

"Come come Mr. Solo, we all know that Illya Kuryakin is..._was_ your partner. You see, Mr. Kuryakin is dead. I believe he became food for the fishes off of Chatham Island. Curious, part of the circle of life when you consider that we ate fish, and fish ate him."

Mishi gasped, leaving the table in a rush before she let her emotions take control of her.

Napoleon rose slowly from his chair. "If you'll excuse me," he said curtly, then went in search of the Colonel. He found her in an observation room, with the view full of playful dolphins and a lumbering sea turtle paddling its way along.

"Mishi," he whispered, walking up behind her. "I know how you feel...he was my best friend."

She turned to him with tear filled eyes, laying her head against his chest as he wrapped his comforting arms around her.

Once she had calmed down, she freed herself of his embrace. "What are we going to do, we can't let that lunatic operate on us."

"I'm trying to come up with a plan."

"Trying?"

"I'm usually pretty good at these things on the fly, but right now I'm..."

Two guards appeared next to them, interrupting the Napoleon's thought.

"Come with us please, Mr. Solo, Colonel." he of them said coldly.

"What if I refuse? It's not like you can shoot me as I recall the risk of stray bullets could shatter the dome and kill us all," the agent challenged them.

"That's why we have this," the guard grinned at him as he shoved a syringe into Napoleon's neck.

.

The seaplane landed smoothly in Doubtless Bay along the strand on Karikari Peninsula, then taking paddles, the men rowed it closer to the shoreline where the passengers disembarked onto the beach. They waved their farewells to Rick then headed up along the shore line carrying their shoes.

Jollie insisted on taking Illya's suitcase for him, as he was concerned for the little Pākehā whose back was now stained with spots of blood that had seeped through the sweatshirt he wore.

Illya was slightly hunched over with his arms crossed in front of him, and there was a lost look in his eyes.

"You okay Illya?"

"I am fine Jollie."

"You don't look it, and your back is still bleeding. We'll have our healers look to it when we reach the_ Marae_."

"That will not be necessary."

"Hey bro, don't pull that macho stuff on me, you're hurting and my grandmother has some potent _Māori_ _rongoa_ that'll set you right."

"_Rongoa_?"

"Remedies, made from natural plants and trees, very powerful stuff."

"Ah home remedies from nature, this I approve of. " The Russian smiled.

As Jollie and Illya headed up the hill to the _Māori's_ home, he filled the Russian in on the protocol that had to be observed.

First we need to stand at the gate to the _Marae_. You are the visitor and I'm sort of your spokesperson and a cousin will be lent by the _Marae_ to act as caller, _Kai Karanga_ must be female and she'll respond towelcome and reciprocate.

One of the older women will let out a call of welcome from the _Tangata_ _Whenua_, that means hosts, to the _Manuhiri_...that's you and me, the visitors at the gate. Her call allows us to to move onto the _Marae _at the same time declaring that area of the _Marae_ to be _tapu___sacred_ until the formalities are concluded.

The words used in the _Karanga_ welcomes us, pays tribute to the deceased relatives of the _Manuhiri _, mentions the tribal background and last addresses the purpose of the _Hui___gathering_.

Our caller will listen carefully and respond to these calls by reciprocating the calls of welcome, acknowledging the deceased of the _Tangata Whenua_. She needs to have the knowledge to greet the house and _iwi_ of the _Marae_. She will finally address the purpose of the visit.

"Then the _Haka_ will be performed, it is very serious so do not laugh at any of it, many _Pākehā_ who do not understand the spiritual nature of it and insult the performers of the _Haka_...and that is not a good thing."

"Trust me," Illya assured him, " I am a very serious person."

"There'll be some formal speeches," Jollie continued explaning."This ritual usually starts with a speech by my _koro_grandfather_ and he'll make welcome, and then we sort of take turns talking, and that's where I can get you introduced."

After each speeches there might be _Waiata__songs. The final ritual before the formalities are complete and the tapu lifted, is for the _Tangata Whenua_ to _hongi_ with the manuwhiri. You are the _manuwhiri___the visitor._ You understand what the _hongi _is bro?"

"Yes, the ceremonial pressing of noses," Illya answered.

"Okay, there's differences though. You saw me and Andy do _hongi_ with three, but it's actually one press for a first encounter, two for a friend or someone you've met before and three for someone you're very fond of or a relation."

"I understand Jollie, thank you." The Russian was paying close attention, not wanting to break some sort of taboo and offend these people.

"Good an ye," Jollie smiled, " Now once the rituals are done and the_ tapu_ lifted then the _Tangata Whenua_ be followed by a hui, a gathering for the _Hangi_, that's a meal steam cooked over heated rocks in a deep pit. Gotta tell you, there'll be some good eats for you, with your appetite. I know it seems like a lot to you, but these are our _tikanga_...the customs of my people."

Though grateful for the hospitality and appreciative of the local traditions, Illya was anxious to proceed with his mission, knowing that he had to find out what and where things were going on before that boat carrying the uranium arrived.

"When the time comes, you'll need to sort of present yourself as part of your formal introduction...I better coach you."

"Coach me?" Illya was beginning to feel a little concerned with the complications involved in this visit, if he didn't need information he would have taken off on his own.

"Hey bro, there's a ritual for everything on the _Marae_. It's part of our lives." Then Jollie taught him the proper way of making himself known in _Māori_.

A young girl, with curly dark hair, perhaps twelve years of age dressed in a brightly colored blouse and shorts, approached them and the traditional greetings were made. "Illya this is my cousin Moana. She'll be chanting the _Karanga_ for us... Mo this is my mate Illya."

"_Tēnā koe_ Illya, "she grinned.

Illya returned the greeting in her language.

"Hey Rawiri, _Kei te pēhea koe__how are you?" She then asked her cousin."You ain't been home in a long time."

_Kei te pai ahau, Me koe___I'm good and you_? My job doesn't take me this far, I'm pretty much round Wellington. Say, you're gettin' big girl, all the boys will be after you soon." He teased her.

"Go on Jollie, boys are...boys!" she grimaced.

The Russian stifled a laugh, concerned his reaction would offend her.

"Illya this is my family's _Marae_, it is a sacred open meeting area, situated in front of the _whare runanga,_ communal meeting house. This is the area of greatest mana, the place of greatest spirituality ; the place that heightens people's dignity, and the place in which _Māori_ customs are given ultimate expression.

"It's called _Te__Māmaru after _the waka_, _that brought our ancestors here. "Jollie pointed with pride to a single-gabled structure, its roof supported on elaborately carved posts, and trimming the porch were carved backboards symbolizing the arms of the ancestors, all painted a brilliant shade of red.

_"The tekoteko at the top of the whare, " said Jollie," r_epresents the ancestor, who the _whare_ is named after, in this case it is a carving of _Te Tūmoana_ guiding the waka _Māmaru. _Inside the marae are more carvings called _poupou_ as well as woven panels called _tukutuku._

The _poupou_ represent the history, in relation to the ancestor, whose _whare_ it is. Th_e tukutuku _represent the stories of positioning of each is important, as the _poupou_ opposite each other are connected through the _heke_, the _tukutuku_ on each side of a poupou are also related. Learning to read a _whare_ is like reading the history book of my people.

"I understand,"Illya said reverently. "The closest thing I can think of in comparison are the icons in St. Andrews Church in Kyiv, where I was born. They are images of saints, and are part of the history of the city, and for me part of my history as the church and icons were important to my mother and grandmother...and many others. But these things were taken away from them by the government."

"Your family still there?" Jollie asked.

Illya hesitated, as he was not comfortable speaking about them. "No, my family is dead, I am and will be the last of my line."

"He bro, you never know. Some day you may meet the right _wahine_?"

"The right woman?" Illya paused, thinking of Mishi. "That is not really a consideration, as I am unable to father children."

"Sorry Illya," Jollie said, wondering if it was something that happened to the Russian during the World War as he'd heard terrible stories of what the Germans did to people.

Illya turned his attention to the _Marae_. It was set in the middle of a lush green lawn, surrounding it was a white washed picket fence, and at the corners of the fence were tall, red blossomed trees.

"Beautiful colors, what sort of trees are those?"Illya asked.

"They're called _pohutukawa_ trees, and are sacred to us. The Kiwis call it the New Zealand Christmas tree but our legends tell of a young Maori warrior, named _Tawhaki,_ who tried to find heaven to get help in avenging the death of his father. He fell to earth and the crimson flowers are said to represent his blood."

"There is a _pohutukawa_ on a cliff top at Cape Reinga that's venerated as '_the place of leaping'_. It is from there that the spirits of the dead begin their journey to their traditional homeland of _Hawaiiki_. From that point the spirits leap off the headland and climb down the roots of the nearly 800-year-old tree, descending into the underworld on their return journey."

Illya could listen to Jollie's stories all day long, but there was no time now. He needed to keep himself focused on his mission and get the uranium out of the hands of Thrush.

Once the welcome had been called, the _tapu_ was lifted and Jollie escorted Illya onto the grounds, but then one of the women spotted the blood on the Russian's back, she and several others rushed forward.

"Why didn't you say the _manuwhiri _was hurt you _poroheahea___blockhead!_" She wagged her finger at Jollie.

"But the _Pōwhiri_..."

"The welcome can wait." She practically growled at him. The women helped Illya as he protested to a smaller building behind the meeting house, but just as the were about to enter it, they stopped.


	13. Chapter 13

"Sorry, the shoes must be taken off before entering the _whare moe__sleeping house, it's sacred..._tapu._ And without waiting for him to do so, one of the women pulled his shoes off one at a time.

"And no sitting on your pillow inside, the head is _tapu _and your bum isn't, so where your head rests your bum can't, same goes for table...no sitting on tables."

He nodded his understanding as they sat him on a cot, then carefully removed his bloody sweatshirt.

"Ay-ya, what did you do to yourself _Pākehā_?"

"I had an argument with some barnacles, but I think I won."Illya smiled sheepishly.

"Barnacles? There's an awful lot of scars here young fella, I think you've had more than arguments with just barnacles." She chastised him, knowing what old bullet wounds, slices from knives and cigarette burns looked like, but but some of the scars were more vicious and had no idea what could have caused them, but she said nothing more.

"Long story, for another time perhaps," he answered as they made him lie down on his stomach. Another of the women brought in a bowl of steaming water filled with leaves, then they were ground into a paste.

"What is that?" Illya asked as he eyed the green goo suspiciously.

"Leaves of the _Kawakawa_, they are used to heal wounds."

"It will not sedate me in any way will it?"

"No, just treats the wounds and prevents infection. This'll help them heal faster."

He accepted that answer without question as he remembered his own mother using such concoctions and poultices when he was young. Though he had an aversion to taking modern medications almost to the point of paranoia, a natural remedy he accepted readily...only of course if it would not make him sleepy.

Illya laid his head on his arms and gritted his teeth as they cleaned his back then applied the paste to his cuts, covering them with clean gauze bandages. One of the women handed him a black T-shirt that must have been retrieved from his suitcase.

He carefully slipped the shirt over his head, then they helped him to move slowly, pulling it down over his bandaged back.

"Black is the proper color for a visitor to show respect at the gathering," they smiled, "Now you're ready for the _Pōwhiri_."

Illay was helped him to his feet, and once outside, his shoes were returned to him. "Best to keep these off for now." One of the younger women said.

"And who may I ask is my _Florence Nightingale_?"

"Who?"

"Sorry, I was asking you your name?"

"Oh, it's _Emeri_, but we cannot do the _Hongi_ as the _tapu_ has not been fully lifted yet." She apologized.

"I understand, my name is Illya, and thank you for taking care of me."

Jollie returned to his side, taking him back to the courtyard in front of the meeting house.

Then a dozen members of the _iwi_ gathered in front of them.

"This is the _Haka_," Jollie whispered.

The men lined up together in, assuming the same position, then with synchronized movements they began to chant in deep booming voices.

"_Tēnā koutou, e hoa mā. Kua tae mai nei i tēnei rā, Nö reira rā, e hoa mā, Kia ora rā, koutou katoa, Kua rongo hoki ahau__Greetings, oh friends Arrived here this day. Therefore, oh friends, Good health, to you all That you were all coming Therefore, oh friends, Good health, to you all..." *

The _Haka_ continued for several minutes, with the performers hands, feet, legs, bodies, voices, tongues, and eyes all playing their part in blending together to convey the fullness of their welcome.

It was performed in total unison with different actions employed in the course of the performance, facial contortions showing the whites of the eyes, the poking out of the tongue, and a wide variety of vigorous body actions such as slapping the hands against the body and stamping of the feet, as well as chanting the words, a variety of cries and grunts were used as well.

When the _Haka_ was complete, Jollie whispered to Illya that it was time for the official introduction and the _Hongi_.

The Russian called upon his eidetic memory as Jollie's grandfather and elders stood in front of him to give them his _pepeha_ _ introduction.

"_Ko Independence te waka__my canoe is Independence," he said using the name of Napoleon's yacht. "_Ko Washington Heights maunga__my mountain is Washington Heights, he knew to be the highest point in the city __Ko Hudson te awa__my river is Hudson." He paused for a second then continued, choosing his answers carefully.

"_Ko Te Kuryakin te iwi__my tribe is Kuryakin. _Ko U.N.C.L.E. i te hapū__my sub tribe is U.N.C.L.E. _Ko Waverly te rangatira__Waverly is the chief. _Ko New York te marae__my marae is New York. _Ko Illya Nickovich Kuryakin ahau__I am Illya Nickovich Kuryakin." He let out a sigh, relieved at getting it over with.

"Not bad_Pākehā_," smiled an older man with close-cropped grey hair and full facial tattoos, indicating _mana_that came with age. "But you're not a Yank, I think you're from _Rūhia__Russia.

"I am Russian yes, but I America is my home now," realizing by the man's astute deduction that he did indeed possess _mana_.

Mana meant prestige, authority, spiritual power, charisma - a supernatural force in a person, place or object, and went hand in hand with _tapu_, one affecting the other. The more prestigious a person or object, the more it is surrounded by _tapu _and _mana_. _Mana_ is the enduring, indestructible power of the _atua_ and is inherited at birth, the more senior the descent, the greater the _mana_. The authority of _mana_ and _tapu_ is inherited and delegated through the senior line from the _atua_ as their human agent to act on revealed will. Since authority was a spiritual gift delegated by the _atua_, man remains the agent, never the source of _mana_.

Illya remembered this in his readings, and if there was a physical representation of this _mana,_ it was imbued within this man. He was well built and muscular for a man of his obvious age. The carved staff that he held at his side, and the whales tooth that hung around his neck meant no doubt that he was the leader, the chief of this iwi.

"_Koro_," Jollie said, stepping forward for the _Hongi _with his grandfather. The two grasped each other behind their heads then pressed their noses together three times, inhaling deeply.

Jollie gestured Illya to step forward, _anei te_ ...here is my _koro, Te Paranihi Tahu_."

_Paranihi_ leaned down, as he stood taller than the blond man, and Illya stretched upwards, performing the single nose press with him.

Some brief speeches were then made and they segued to the meal house that was a separate structure behind the _wharenui._

.

"_He aha te mea nui_? What is the greatest thing?_He tangata__it is people, _He tangata!_ _He tangata__ it is people! It is people!" Paranhi called out, and then the _Hangi_ began and the food was served.

The tables in the meal house were set with dishes of pork, Māori potato __taewa tutaekuri_, that were an unusual deep purple, kūmara, and dumplings, and pork and _puha__sow thistle. _Rewena pararoa__bread, made from potatoes, _kuku_ patties made with greenlip mussels, puha greens and salmon infused with manuka_ ti tree honey, kelp and peppery _horopito_ leaves.

As the food was moved along the table, Jollie told Illya that it must not be passed over the head, for the head was _tapu__sacred.

"I will do my best not to offend your family. Jollie, is it permissible to ask your grandfather any questions?"

"Sure bro, it's fine. Go ahead.

"Excuse me Paranihi, may I ask you some questions about the area, if there has been any strange people or goings on as of late?"

"Strange things," he repeated." Well there's that building just north of here, lots of strange fellas coming and going all the time, a lot of them wearing green jumpers and a black berets. Saw one of them carrying an odd looking rifle once. The place is supposed to be part of a Marine Biology research center studying the sea life of the bay, but I don't think rifles are a piece of equipment for studying fish and dolphins."

"No sir they are not." Illya agreed, but as soon as he heard the description of the uniforms and the rifle, he knew it was Thrush. Perhaps he was getting lucky for once, not having to rely on the Solo luck.

That thought saddened him, not knowing if his partner was dead or alive, and the idea that Mishi might be dead gave him a knot in the pit of his stomach.

"There's been some other odd things out in the bay, though," said Paranihi. "There's _pāpahu__dolphins here that I've never seen before. And they're all together, like they're _ngare_...a family group but they all different kinds, never saw them do that before, dolphins usually stick with their own kind."

"And then there's that strange thing in the water, " said Jollie's Uncle Hemi, Andy's father. " Looks like a whale, but I thinks it's one of them things, a submarine. And all them mixed dolphins flock to it, even seen an orca hanging about. But not hunting after the dolphins, it was strange, almost acting like it was part of the dolphin family group. Then when this sub appears, a motorized skiff goes out from the shore to meet it."

"There was a bunch of blokes came the other day, couple of women too. The were all dressed in white coats like a doctor wears, except one dark haired fella was in fancy duds...a grey suit, and there was a blond woman dressed all nice like."

"Napoleon and Mishi," Illya said, his eyebrows raised, "Sorry, I suspect those are my friends who have been missing. I am convinced that the people running the research center are members of a nefarious organization whose sole purpose is world domination, and the elimination of any people they think are inferior. They are extremely dangerous and will use any means necessary to achieve their goals."

"Are you with the police?"

"No, I am an agent from an organization called U.N.C.L.E. and it is my job to stop these people from achieving their goal."

"Brilliant, " exclaimed one of the younger men. "So you're some sort of a spy like that James Bond fella, coming to take care of these jokers...they have a name like Spectre, eh?

Illya smiled at the comparison. "Yes field agents are somewhat like spies, and the organization is called T.H.R.U.S.H."

"Cor blimey, that's so hip." The young man replied.

Illya answered with a smile.

"How long has this activity been going on? "Illya then asked Paranihi.

"They built the Research center a ways back, but hardly anyone was there, most the comings and goings started not more than a month and a fortnight ago."

That timed out right with the theft of the uranium from Vintech and the mini bomb going off in Nevada, so it seemed that this operation was just in its infancy stages and that to Illya lifted some weight from his shoulders.

Better he could nip this thing in the bud, and avoid any more of those mini bombs going off. The only thing that troubled him was the unusual behavior of the dolphins, and what was this aquatic tie in?

After the feast, Illya retreated to the sleeping house, where he withdrew his communicator, sitting on the bed as Jollie walked in after him.

"Open channel D-overseas relay."

"Mr. Kuryakin, I was beginning to become concerned. What have you to report?"

"Until a short while ago, I had little. But I have now discovered the location of the Thrush satrap, and think it is there the rest of the stolen uranium will be off-loaded. I have my suspicions that is is a processing facility for the ore. There is also something strange going on off shore in the bay and I plan to investigate that first thing in the morning, if I can get hold of some diving gear."

Jollie gave him the thumbs up, indicating that wouldn't be a problem.

"There should be several more days before the boat carrying the ore should arrive, in the mean time if we could get a team from the Sydney office here to help with the satrap...I also think that Mr. Solo and Colonel Mirgorodsky are in the vicinity as two people matching their descriptions were brought out to some sort of submarine in the bay."

"Excellent Mr. Kuryakin. I will make arrangements for a team to meet you. Your location?"

"Karikari Peninsula, on the east coast of the north island, specifically the northwest part of the peninsula on Doubtless Bay. I am at the meeting house of a _Māori_ tribal group called _Ngāti Kahu_."

"Stay put Mr. Kuryakin, once the team arrives you can coordinate the operation."

"Yes sir. Could you have them bring a spare Walther and some additional hardware as I am afraid I was relieved of mine and am now weaponless at the moment." That wasn't completely true, as he still had the explosive putty in the heel of his shoe.

"Mr. Kuryakin, you go through weapons like Mr. Solo goes through suits...well I suppose accounting will just have to understand that these things happen." The Old Man sighed, "Waverly out."

"Jollie, I take it from your gestures that there is diving gear available?"

"You'll be happy as a box of birds to know that my cousin has everything we'll need. He runs a little business, taking tourists out into the bay for dolphin and fish watching. Only worry is that he's about an hour south of us...but we can borrow a ute_utility vehicle, in the morning."

"Excuse me Jollie, everything _we_ need...I must do this myself. I cannot risk you being injured."

"Sorry little _Pākehā_, but these ratbag Thrushie blokes are messing with my home, and I'm going to help get rid of them, so don't go all high dungeon on me, eh?"

"We will see," Illya sighed his partial surrender to the the big _Māori_ i. "In the mean time I am going to take a walk to take a look at the facility."

"I'm going with you then mate." Jolly smiled, holding up a pair of jandals for Illya to wear on his feet.

They stepped outside of the _whare moe _and Illya slipped on the flip flops.

"There don't you look a bit of flash now." Jollie teased as they walked towards the beach.

.

* ref to see a Haka, search "Maori Haka" on you tube


	14. Chapter 14

Napoleon woke up feeling groggy with a stabbing headache. When his eyes focused, he realized he was strapped in a small bed wearing a hospital gown.

For a moment he felt a pang of panic, as he reached up to feel his skull thinking that Genius had done something to him, but instead discovered that there were straps holding his wrists and ankles as well as the one across his chest.

"Good morning Mr. Solo. " The Doctor's voice spoke out through a small speaker beside the bed. "I presume you slept well."

"Fine I suppose, but I would have preferred it had been of my own volition," he replied. " I think Thrush needs to change its knockout formula, as I do have a rather nasty headache...now I know how my partner feels, felt." He corrected himself.

Napoleon scrunched his eyes closed for a minute, remembering that Illya was gone. He could feel his heart start to pound as his anger rose, promising himself that these animals would pay for killing his friend.

One of the female scientists entered his room rolling a stainless steel cart in front of her. Once it was close enough, he spotted a syringe, an electric hair trimmer and a straight razor.

"Hmmm, I really prefer shaving myself." He quipped nervously.

"Not where I'm going to do it," she snickered.

Napoleon's eyes darted instantly to his nether regions, but then she took hold of his head as she turned on the clipper.

"Mmmm shame," she said as she ran it along the top of his head, just behind the hairline." You really have beautiful hair...but it will grow back. Then again you might not be of a mind to worry about it any more," she then laughed.

He tried pulling away, but it was useless as he felt the clippers against his scalp. "Now stop that Mr. Solo, I have to use a straight razor next and you wouldn't want me to slip now would you?"

Solo said nothing and bit his lower lip, closing his eyes during the procedure. She put the razor down and picked up the needle, holding it up so he could see her squirt a little liquid out of it as she depressed the plunger.

"Now you're going to feel several pinches, so don't move...wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Before she could inject him, he jerked his head violently, knocking the glass syringe from her hand, sending it flying and shattering on the floor.

"Now that wasn't very nice Mr. Solo."

"Do you think?" He snapped at her.

"It's pointless struggling." She left the room, this time returning with another needle and a guard at her side. He held Napoleon down while she injected him.

"There, now that wasn't so bad was it? It was just a local anesthetic, you see the doctor will need you awake for your surgery."

That's when Napoleon's heart began to pound, though anyone looking at him would not even guess the man was feeling a sense of panic.

"My surgery..."he repeated.

"Yes, you and your friend are going to be the first human recipients of Dr. Genius' Pelorus chips. You're a guinea pig!" She laughed as the guard helped her wheel Napoleon still strapped in his bed out into the hall and down to the surgical suite.

"Ah welcome back Mr. Solo," Evelyn Genius pulled down his surgical mask to greet him as the gurney was wheeled into place.

"Doctor, I umm, wish you'd reconsider this? My mother likes me just the way I am, and I wouldn't want to upset her...she's going to be upset enough as it is about my hair being shaved." Napoleon hedged.

"Oh, and I thought you were such a brave little U.N.C.L.E. agent, afraid of a little procedure?"

"Only when it's being done on me."

The gurney was locked into place under a bright overhead lamp, then a few minutes later Napoleon heard the whir of a small drill.

"Do you feel this Mr. Solo?" Genius asked, jabbing a needle into the shaved spot on his scalp.

"No, thank goodness. Do I really have to be awake for this?"

"Yes, I will be asking you a series of questions during the procedure in order to program the Pelorus chip once it's installed in your head.

Napoleon felt nothing as the doctor sliced into his scalp, exposing his skull, then he heard the drill become louder as it was getting closer to his head.

"Please don't do this?" He held his breath, cringing and squeezing his eyes shut as he heard his skull being drilled into, then exhaled as he realized the injections were working and there was no pain.

Christopher Fleming stood beside a computer keyboard waiting to test the chip once it was ready.

"Now Mr. Solo, I'm inserting the chip into the frontal lobe. That's an area of the brain in humans and other mammals, located at the front of each cerebral hemisphere and positioned in front of the parietal lobe and superior and anterior to the temporal lobes. The precentral gyrus, forming the posterior border of the frontal lobe, contains the primary motor cortex, which controls voluntary movements of specific body parts. The frontal lobe contains most of the dopamine-sensitive neurons in the cerebral cortex. The dopamine system is associated with reward, attention, short-term memory tasks, planning, and motivation."

Napoleon had no interest in hearing the details. "So is this going to affect my memory?" He muttered.

"That remains to be seen...now Christopher I want you to press function one on the keyboard please? He said to Fleming.

"Mr. Solo I want you to raise your right forearm."

Napoleon remained motionless. "I can't move it."

"Good very good. Christoper release function one please."

"Now if you would be so good as to try to move your arm again?" The doctor asked.

This time Napoleon was able to move it with out any difficulty.

The question and response process was repeated with his other arm, some of his fingers, and his legs, then finally with his ability to speak.

"Excellent." Genius said. He then closed the dura with sutures, replaced the minute bone flap back in its original position and secured it to the skull with a titanium plate barely the size of a dime and screwed that into place The skin was sutured back together then a soft adhesive dressing was placed over the incision.

Napoleon's bindings were undone, and he was told to get up slowly. He saw no point in being non-compliant and swung his legs over the side of the gurney, then grabbed the edge of it, complaining he was light headed.

One of the scientists took Solo by the arm, helping him to his feet.

He let go and the agent stood, wobbling for a moment like a toddler maintaining his balance.

"Christopher, input this sequence, 7345 please. Alright Mr. Solo I want you to hit the guard."

"No."

"Christopher, hit enter please."

As soon as Fleming finger pressed the key, Napoleon slammed his fist into the guards jaw, knocking him out cold, then stood staring at his fist, incredulous that what he had done was against his will. He had no warning, and his arm lashed out as if it had a mind of its own.

"Very good Mr. Solo. Now if you would walk forward please, slowly."

Again he refused, but as soon as another sequence was input into the computer, he did exactly as Genius had instructed him to. Napoleon grew red in the face. "I don't know how, but I'll stop you some how you sick bastard you'll pay..."

"Christopher 999 please?"

As soon as it was entered, Napoleon found himself unable to talk, or move.

"Alright, enough excitement for now. Guards, put Mr. Solo back on the gurney and take him to his room to rest. Christopher, input 000 to shut down the Pelorus chip for now. Rest well Mr. Solo, we'll be putting you through a battery of tests tomorrow before I implant a chip into your lovely companions skull."

Napoleon's face remained expressionless as they wheeled him back to his room. They unstrapped and helped the agent into his bed and at that point he felt as weak as a baby and had no strength to try to resist.

"There's a buzzer on the nightstand sir, if you have any problems, use it to call. A nurse will be in to check on you later."

With that he was left alone, laying with extra pillows propping him up, as he looked at the serene aquatic scene that surrounded him.

He reached up, touching the top of his head gingerly."Shit," he mumbled, then closed his eyes and falling asleep as fast as his partner usually was able to do.

A nurse arrived as promised, waking Napoleon from a deep sleep as she took hold of his wrist to take his pulse. He grabbed her instinctively, pulling her down beside him.

When he realized who it was, he apologized to the pretty brunette. "It's best never to touch a sleeping U.N.C.L.E. agent." Then he smiled at her as she was laying in a rather compromising position with her head in his lap.

She pushed herself up, giving him a nasty look.

"Oh you could have stayed there if you wanted to. I was kind of nice."

She blushed, and her cross look disappeared.

"That's much better." he said, reaching up and pinching her chin, then he tapped her on the tip of her nose with his finger.

"Now let me take that pulse for you." She said, trying to ignore how handsome he was.

"Be my guest, but I assure you, it'll be racing because of you."

"My you are the flirt arent' you?" She finally smiled.

Evelyn Genius watched on the monitor as wicked thoughts filled his head. "Ah the possibilities," he said to himself.

Later that evening Mishi returned after eating her dinner in silence with the scientists, but instead of going to her room, she knocked on Napoleon's door, as she was concerned about him.

She peeked her head inside after she heard him call and found him sitting on the bed, dressed only in a bathrobe. She sat next to him in silence, aware of the bandage on his head and what it meant.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, taking his hand in hers.

"I don't know. I feel alright," he sighed, " I vaguely remember after the surgery having trouble moving and talking. I wanted to, but I just couldn't"

The confidence that she had become accustomed to seeing in Napoleon's eyes wasn't there, he seemed distant and preoccupied.

"Do you think we'll get out of here?"

"Mishi, I hope so but right now I have to be honest, I'm just not sure. Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? This wasn't your fault. I accepted this assignment, no one forced me to take it." She reassured him.

Napoleon's hand drifted up along her arm to her shoulder, and before she realized it, he had pulled her towards him and kissed her, _hard._

She pushed her hand against his chest. "For once I have to say, this isn't a good idea." She whispered apologetically.

He looked at her strangely, then pulled her to him again, this time as he kissed her he fondled her breast, then in one quick motion he spun her around on the bed, holding her down.

"Napoleon, stop."

He laid down, putting his weight on her, forcing his lips to hers.

"I said _stop_!" She raised her voice, then slammed her balled fist against him several times. That only made him smile. "Napoleon what's wrong with you?" She tried squirming from beneath him. Then his head started to twitch, and he shook it as if he was fighting with himself.

Suddenly there was a shrill laughter that filled the room, it was Evelyn Genius. "That's just a little sample of the control that I have over Mr. Solo. Tomorrow it will be your turn Colonel" He cackled again.

Napoleon shrank away from her, with clarity now returning to his eyes.

"Mishi, I'm so sorry," he stammered, "I couldn't stop myself, I tried...I couldn't even speak to tell you what was going on. That madman was controlling me and I couldn't do a thing to stop him." He dropped his face into his hands, completely humiliated by his actions.

"I would never force myself on a woman, it's completely against my beliefs, yet I was doing it. If he hadn't stopped it, I would have tried to rape you. Can you forgive me?"

"It wasn't you who was doing it, he was controlling you like a puppet on a string, you can't blame yourself. No harm, no foul alright?"

He nodded his head. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone, there's a lot I have to think about."

"I understand," she said, leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead then left, though she didn't like the tone in his voice.

He threw back the covers on the bed, climbing beneath them. His head was throbbing and he lay it back on the pillow. For a moment he stared up at the now dark water, seeing vague shadows of things swimming in the water outside the dome. Then attracted to the light a dolphin swam closer, peeking inside at him. Napoleon recognized it by it's rounded whale-like snout as an uncommon species called Risso's.

He stared back at the creature as it watched him, seemingly studying him before it swam off into the darkness.

This was a situation that had him baffled. There were no clever strategies coming to him, no escapes...not as long as this _thing _was in his head. Tomorrow, the prospect of the same thing happening to Mishi made everything seem even more dim.

If he could not control his own actions, he would become nothing but a dangerous tool for Thrush to help take down U.N.C.L.E. and that was something he simply could not permit. There might be only one final solution to the problem, one that would be permanent. That went against his beliefs too, but there might not be another option. He wasn't ready to take that step yet, and he vowed to try to overcome Genius' device before that final choice had to be made.

"Oh _tovarisch_, why did you have to go and get yourself killed? He whispered, but part of him didn't want to believe it was true.

Illya Kuryakin had an uncanny ability to survive, and Napoleon held onto that thought as he closed his eyes, allowing him fall asleep with just a bit of hope in his heart.


	15. Chapter 15

Illya and Jollie laid down in the sand, shimmying up along the dunes on their stomachs to keep out of sight.

"I wish we had a pair of binoculars." Illya whispered.

"Here you go bro," Jollie smiled, passing a small pair to the agent.

"Very good, you might make an agent some day." He smiled as he placed the binoculars to his eyes, focusing in on the building.

It was a simple concrete structure, not resembling anything that he imagined would have looked like a Marine research operation. There were no pools, no aquatic equipment outside, no windows in the walls. And standing outside a single steel door in the front were a pair of guards, definitely clothed in Thrush uniforms.

He watched as a pair of men wearing white protective radiation suits exited the door, accompanied by another guard. They removed the gear, still wearing white lab coats.

"It was such a pleasure to see that damnable agent Solo under the Doctor's control. This application of the Pelorus on humans will be invaluable to the Thrush cause."

"The look in his eyes was priceless, U.N.C.L.E.'s number one agent was as helpless as a baby! Now it remains to be seen if the woman will be as adaptable to the implant." The two of them laughed out loud as they walked to a small dock where a skiff was tied, then once they and their escort were aboard, the engine was started and they motored some distance out into the bay.

Illya looked at his wristwatch, then refocused the binoculars, watching for where it was heading. The boat stopped and some activity in the water began. He saw dolphins surfacing, bubbles and then a mini-sub rose as Uncle Hemi had described it.

The two scientists boarded the sub, then it disappeared beneath the surface and the skiff turned to come back, again Illya looking at his watch to time how long it took. That and estimating the speed of the skiff would help him calculate how far out they had gone. At least it would give him a starting point, as he had no idea how far the sub could be travelling out beneath the bay.

He gave a quick sigh of relief knowing that Napoleon and Mishi were still alive, but now a new question was added to the mystery. What was this _Pelorus_ device and what had it done to Napoleon?

Having seen enough for the moment, Illya waved his hand telling Jollie to move back down the dune. Once they were well out of sight, they stood and began their trek back to the Marae.

"What was all that about Pelorus and some fella named Solo and woman too?" Jollie asked.

"I do not know what this Pelorus thing is, but Solo is my friend and partner Napoleon and the woman is also...a _friend_, Colonel Michaela Mirgorodsky."

"Hey bro there's a twinkle in your eye when you say that name...she your girlfriend?" He laughed.

Illya blushed. "_Maybe_," he admitted shyly.

"Well we gonna get your girl and your friend bro." Jollie punched the small Russian in the arm, somehow sealing the deal Illya assumed in the Māori's mind.

"This is a serious situation and I cannot put you or your people in any danger."

"Listen little _Pākehā, tēnā rūkahu tēnā___that's a load of rubbish!_ I told you already these _pōkōtiwha_fucking bastards _are messing with my home and that's not going to happen." The big _Māori _began to raise his voice."I'm not going to pike out, my people don't give up when the going gets tough."

Illya knew he might regret it. "Alright, alright. You can help."

"_Tēnā rawa atu koe_."

"You are welcome... I think, " said the Russian reluctantly.

"That Pelorus thingy, I've heard that name before," Jollie said."Round the turn of the century there was this dolphin...a Risso's dolphin, called Pelorus Jack and he used to meet and help ships through a stretch of water in Cook Strait. He was usually spotted in Admiralty Bay between Cape Francis and Collinet Point, near French Pass, a real dangerous channel used by ships travelling betweenWellington and Nelson."

"Hmmm."Illya said, knowing a Pelorus was a navigational aid, but still could not make a connection with all these little facts.

They returned to the Marae, bedding down for the night, but Illya was restless, and found it difficult to fall asleep as quickly as he was accustomed to.

The possibilities were spinning in his head. Thrush making their own nuclear bombs, a device called a Pelorus used to control a person, dolphins of different species and killer whales swimming together as family groups, a submarine taking people who knows where. None of it made sense. And where were Napoleon and Mishi being held? "Mishi..." he whispered with a sigh.

He rolled from his stomach to his side, mindful of his back, then gave up mulling over the facts and finally closed his eyes, drifting off into a restless sleep.

"_Illyaaaa," Mishi whispered, running her hand down along his naked body._

"_Mmmm?"_

"_Do you really like being with me?" _

"_Of course I do," he mumbled, half asleep, "otherwise I would not be in bed with you right now."_

"_Illya."_

"_Yes Mishi."_

"_Do you love me? Do you? Illya do you love me?" Her voice echoed again and again. "Illya do you love me?"_

He woke with a start, wondering if it was his own heart that was asking that question, knowing that she had never said such a thing to him. He settled in again, going back to a still restless sleep.

.

They rose early the next morning, taking a drive using one of the cousin's pickup trucks to _Whatuwhiwhi_, the major settlement on the Peninsula serviced mainly by a shop, service station, liquor wholesale and takeaway.

A friend of Jollie's had tried to start a diving business catering to the tourist trade but hadn't had much luck and was glad to loan out the gear Illya needed.

The Russian looked over the tank, breathing gear and mask and found it all in good order and insisted on paying for the rental. But the man refused, telling Illya it was needed in the defense of the Marae.

Jollie interrupted, asking if he could use the telephone to make a call and that ended the discussion of payment.

Illya however, did buy a pair of light blue bathing togs, as that was an article of clothing he had neglected to bring with him.

"Who did you call, may I ask?" He said as they loaded the gear into the back of the truck.

"Some cousins from the _Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Kahu ki Whangaroa iwis_, they're from _Mangonui Harbour_ about a half hour from here. They'll be coming across the bay in their wakas. That will be a sight, to see. Usually the ocean going canoes are for the yearly whale hunt, but there'll be war canoes too, this is almost like a war I reckon. We're defending our home from these Thrushie blokes I told them."

Illya had no idea Jollie had been up to this and now the possibility of large numbers of innocents being hurt weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He needed an update on the Sydney contingent.

He pulled out his communicator. "Channel D- Steve Mannion"

"Illya mate, howzit going?" Said the familiar Australian voice.

"Are you on the way, coming down to the rescue to _Karikari Peninsula_?"

"That was the plan but we're chocka block with weather problems here, another buster, an even bigger one is rolling in and they've shut down the airports. Travel's too dangerous. So who knows when we'll get across the ditch to ya. Waverly said for ya to sit tight, right?"

"Yes, but that may not be possible, the freighter carrying the stolen ore should be here by tomorrow." He exhaled deeply.

"Not good mate, be careful." said Mannion.

"Stevo, that is always the plan. Kuryakin out. Looks like we are on our own Jollie."

"Well then it was good I called the other _iwis_." He winked.

Illya squinted at him, giving him a cold, one-eyed stare.

As they headed up the road, he suddenly called for Jollie to stop as he had spotted a sign advertising fishing and hunting gear. "Pull over Jollie, we are going to need some hardware."

"Bro, the hardware shop is back the other way."

"Not that sort of supply," Illya smiled.

He and Jollie walked inside, with the agent making a direct line to the gun case. There wasn't much to choose from in the way of handguns and he ended up selecting a German Luger.

His cash was dwindling, allowing him to purchase only two used B.S.A's__Birmingham Small Arms Company_ rifles imported from England. The _Hunter_ short action rifle had a straightened bolt handle, a guide rib on the bolt and 2 gas escape holes which were drilled in the receiver and bolt, and finally a hole was milled in the rear dovetail for a recoil stop and the Russian guessed these were from around 1959, the last year they were manufactured. He had opportunities to use this style of weapon when stationed in Great Britain and found them great rifles that were underrated.

The headed back to the _Marae_, and by the time they arrived some of the members of the other iwi were there as well and they like Illya, had to wait for the official welcome ceremony before the _tapu_ was lifted as this was not their _Marae_.

Members of the _Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Kahu ki Whangaroa_ from the far side of Doubtless Bay greeted Jollie with the hongi along with Illya, once he was introduced to some of them. There were at least 50 men and women, and the _Karanga _was chanted between the parties.

Jollie's cousin Moana called the _Karanga_ to the visitors.

_Nau mai taku manu;_

_Piki mai taku manu,_

_He manu aha tenei ka tau?_

_Kuaka marangaranga ki te tahuna,_

_Korimako pae ki te kotaratara_

_Piwaiwaka i kutia ai te mate_

_Kotuku rerenga tahi..._

_Welcome to our migrating birds!_

_Wing your way hither, our guests!_

_How may we fittingly portray you?_

_As godwits alighting on a sandspit_

_As bell birds assembled to sing_

_As the fantail who unwittingly awoke death_

_Or, a white heron of solitary flight?_

_Welcome to those borne hither on the breeze of love,_

_Winging your way in the pearly dawnlight,_

_At the zenith of the noonday sun;_

_In the descending gloom of the eventide;_

_In the dark night_

_Of a slumbering world._

_Already, you have searched,_

_Explored, debated,_

_With birds from inland_

_And from the shore._

_Now take your stand on the marae._

_Share your concerns about the state of affairs,_

_Let your wisdom lead us into the light,_

_Let it be as a mantle over the assembly of women,_

_the band of young people;_

_Over the conclave of chiefs,_

_The council of seers,_

_To you who have elected to come, speak your minds,_

_Wise speech is the food of chiefs,_

_And so I rest my case!*_

A woman from the visitors replied to Moana's call. Illya stood with Jollie, taking in all the ritual with his arms crossed in front of his chest, trying not to show his restlessness. He had to show respect for their ways, but as an agent and aware of the dangers, he wanted to get going with the dive.

"_Kia hiwa ra ! Kia hiwa ra ! kia hiwa ra i tenei tuku !  
>Kia hiwa ra i tera tuku ! Kia hiwa ra ! Kia hiwa ra !<em>

_E nga waka. E nga hau e wha. E nga mana. E nga iwi.  
>E nga manu korero o runga i nga marae<em>

_Whakarongo ! Whakarongo ! Whakarongo ..."_

"_Be alert ! Be watchful ! Be alert on this rampart !_

_Be alert on that rampart ! Be watchful! Be alert !_

_O the canoes. The four winds. Great ones. The tribes.  
>Talking birds (orators) of the marae<em>

_Listen ! Listen ! Listen..._

_Listen to the cry of the bird calling "Unite, unite, be one !"  
>Unite above, unite below, unite within,<br>Unite without, unite in the brotherhood of man._

_The night hears, the night hears  
>Unite the descent lines from Great Hawaiki<br>From long Hawaiki, from Hawaiki far away  
>Joined to the spirit, to the daylight, to the world of light."*<em>

Once the welcome had been called, they were permitted to step past the gate, and that was then members of the _Ngāti Kahu_ stepped forward to perform the challenge _Haka_, to be followed by a response from the _manuhiri__ visiting _Māori_ party.

Jollie explained the differerence in the Hakas and before going into battle, warriors would generally assemble together. And they watched as the man leading the _taua__ _war party,_ moved forward crying out.

_"Tika tonu mai_

_Tika tonu mai_

_Ki ahau e noho nei_

_Tika tonu mai I a hei ha..."_

_"Come forth this way, towards me_

_To this place where I now stand _

_"Come forth this way, towards me_

_To this place where I now stand_

_Come straight this way_

_I a hei ha!"_

_Come straight this way_

_I a hei ha!"*_

The men then prepared for the _"peruperu" Haka_, during which the tribal elders would make a careful inspection of the dance. If the _Haka _was not performed in total unity, it could be taken as an omen of disaster for the confrontation to come.

Before abattle in order to invoke the god of war and to discourage and frighten the enemy, it required fierce facial expressions and grimaces, poking out of the tongue, eye bulging, grunts and cries, and the waving of weapons.

When the actual Haka began, the men eyeballed the others, stressing a slicing movement with the arm to indicate the fate awaiting their enemy.

The leader called out "_Kia rite___hands on hips_." The leader began," _Ka mate, Ka mate___"It is death! It is death!_ Then the the thighs were beat with the palms on the accented beats, twice.

" _Ka ora, Ka ora_It is life! It is life!"_ Then hands on the hips while the right foot was stamped in time with the rhythm, the elbows near to the waist and the forearms parallel to the ground, palms facing each other, their forearms moved to the right twice on the accented beat.

"This is the most famous _Haka_ chorus," Jollie told Illya. It is said to have been composed by the great warrior chief _Te Rauparaha_. Pressed by his pursuers, he took refuge in the Marae of the hairy chief called _Te Wharerangi _whose wife hid him in a _kumara__food storage pit. When _Te Rauparaha_ safely emerged from his shelter, he contrasted the sunlight with the darkness within the pit _ life and death and in a stanza which became the _haka_ chorus to the War Chant of _Te Rauparaha,_ he exulted in his deliverance, _Ka Mate! Ka Mate! Ka Ora! Ka Ora!"_

The men performed with clenched fists, pointing fingers, facial expressions and turns and stamps, all in perfect unison with the rhythms of the chanting.

"_Tenei te tangat__a puhuruhuru,_

_Nana nei i tiki meiI whakawhiti re ra!_

_Upane! Upane!_

_Upane! Kaupane!_

_Whiti te ra!''_

_._

_"It is death! It is death!_

_It is life! It is life!_

_This is the hairy person_

_Who caused the sun to shine!_

_One upward step! Another upward step!_

_One last upward step! The step forth!_

_Into the sun that shines!"*_

The members of the other iwi then responded with their _Haka_, performed with equal fervor and precision. Calling out their own preamble.

_Whatiwhati to hope!_

_Ringa pakia e!_

_Waewae takahia!_

_Ka huri o kanohi e!_

_Sway your hips_

_Slap your thigh_

_Move your feet_

_Turn your eyes"_

_._

__Then the visitors began their Haka in earnest...

_Kīkiki kākaka kau ana!_

_Kei waniwania taku tara,_

_Kei tarawahia kei te rua i te kerokero!_

_He pounga rahui te uira ka rarapa._

_Ketekete kau ana, to peru kairiri:_

_E koro, mau au e!_

_Ka wehi au, ka matakana._

_Ko wai te tangata kia rere ure_

_Tirohanga nga rua rerarera,_

_Nga rua kuri kakanui i raro?_

_Ka mate! Ka mate!_

_Ka ora! Ka ora!_

_Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru!"_

"_Secured are the palisades at last!_

_lest disaster befalls my female guardian_

_lest harm touches her in the burrow like the petrel!_

_Refuge so given is as lightning!_

_Shattered is your dignity, be calm,_

_o you, my manhood!_

_I tremble! I watch!_

_What man will dare go forth impulsively_

_at seeing these vulnerable pits_

_is it for angry slaves in lowly places?_

_I die, I die!_

_I live, I live!_

_Here is the hair-covered one_

_who has caused the sun to shine_

_Up one rung, up another_

_The sun shines!"*_

Jollie could sense Illya's impatience and whispered to him." _Aroha mai, aroha atu___love towards us, love going out from us_. It may just seem warlike ritual, but it is the love of our ways bro. Once the _hui _starts we can go.**"**

The Russian nodded his understanding, though disappointed to miss the feast, he knew better than to dive on a full stomach.

It was then the official speeches began. _"Kia tū tika ai te whare tapu o Ngāpuhi___the sacred house of Ngāpuhi always stands firm."_

"As does the _Ngāti Kahu ki Whangaroa!" _Called a member of the other iwi.

Then a short oratory was given by the _Ngāpuhi_ leader. _He mea hanga toku whare, ko Papatuanukute paparahi... Within my house, Papatuanuku is the footstool beneath, the mountains are the supportive posts and we see Ranginui, the ceiling above us. Puhangatohora looks across to Te Ramaroa, Te Ramaroa looks to Whiria, the sacred mountain of Rahiri, his seat of war,.. My mountains will always stand firm, through daylight and darkness, because this is the sacred house of Ngapuhi, giving me life!*_

A traditional _Koha_ _gift_ was presented by the visitors. It was a _Hei-Matau,_a very stylised fish hook carved in whale bone, that represented strength, prosperity, abundance, fertility and a great respect for the sea. It could be worn around the neck as a talisman.

_Hei-Matau_ were said to provide good luck and safety when traveling over water so it was often worn by travelers. They are also symbols of power and authority which are held in great reverence by the _Māori_ people.

In the practical sense as a tool for fishing, they were often decorated as a sign of respect for the creatures of the _Hei-Matau_ in the more ornamental styles was a treasured heirloom for generations following.

_Paranihi _wore the _Koru_, a spiral carving also in whale bone, around his his neck. It represented the fern frond as it opened, bringing new life and purity to the world. It also represented peace, tranquility and spirituality along with a strong sense of re-growth or new beginnings. It was the symbol of the leadership of his _iwi._

The _Koru _was also associated with nurturing so when interlocked with others, it was frequently used to represent the strength and purity of a loving relationship within a family. The _Hei-Matau _would be added beside it, as a gift honoring the power of his leadership and the strength of the relationship between the tribes.

When the _Koha_ concluded, koro spoke. "_Ma atu ki te ake taua_ let us go on. _That was the signal to move tot the _Whare kai__dining hall.

Though Illya was impatient to get going, the power of the words were not lost on him, making him wish he knew more of what was being said. He did understand words like war, sacred house, and life."

"_Ngati Kahu Ko Mamaru te waka, Ko Te Parata te tangata, Ko Kahutianui te wahine, Ko Ngati Kahu te Iwi,_" replied Jolle's grandfather. "_Our waka is Mamaru, Te Parata is our founder, Kahutianui is the ancestor. WE are the Ngati Kahu!_" Answered Jollie's grandfather. "And we are the people of _Kupe_." They all said with reverence.

"_Tena ra koutou katoa! Haere mai e nga, haere mai e nga iwi;Tena ra koutou katoa! E te iwi, hui tonu ra;Tena ra koutou katoa___Greetings to you all! We bid all people welcome; Greetings to you all! Oh ye people gathered here; Greetings to you all!" *_

"_Tena koutou! Tena koutou! Nga iwi e, Nga iwi e," called Paranihi._

"_Greetings to you the __Māori_ _people, assembled here on this day. Welcome to all,on this day; welcome to all, ye mighty tribes. Greetings to _

_Family groups and all! Your arrival I have known, To this our gathering; Welcome again, Assembled tribes, Good health to all! To one and all."* _

When the _Koha_ concluded, _Paranihi_ spoke again. "_Ma atu ki te ake taua_ Let us go on." _That was the signal to move to the _Whare kai__dining hall.

"_Kia mau koe ki nga kupu o ou tupuna_Hold fast to the words of your ancestors! Nau te rourou naku te rourou_your basket and my basket._"* With that pronouncement the Hui began.

"Okay Illya, we can go now." Jollie whispered." Wait, nearly forgot, my mother has something she made for you in the kitchen."

"I apologize Jollie, but I do not eat before a dive."

"Not food bro, she made you something for your seasickness. I told her you had that bit of problem and she knew we'd have to go out into the bay in a waka, so..."

Illya smiled as he slipped off his sandals, stepping into the kitchen. There was a jar on the counter, filled with what looked like freshly made tea. One of the women poured some into a porcelain teacup, handing it to him.

"Only a half cup mind you," she said. "It's made from the _Karamu_ plant, the outside bark is scraped off and the inner bark is boiled for 15 minutes, it'll help your stomach feel better."

Illya downed the bitter liquid in one gulp, trying not to make a face from the unpleasant taste.

"_Tēnā rawa atu koe_thank you very much,_" he said handing the cup back to her.

"Good on you, bro!" Jollie laughed, "that stuff tastes pretty bad."

"Thank you for the _warning_." Illya whispered as they walked out of the kitchen, heading up the beach to a waiting canoe and it's rowers.

.

* Traditional Maori greetings, chants, songs and _Haka_.


	16. Chapter 16

The bright blue water of Doubtless Bay and its marine life drifted above the human beings protected within the clear domed underwater habitat.

Napoleon sat to the right of Dr. Genius and the other scientists at what was supposed to be breakfast as he stared out at the multicolored fish, dolphin and porpoises that looked back in at them with curious interest.

When Mishi didn't appear to join them, Napoleon became uncharacteristically agitated, sweeping away the clear glass dishes on the table in front of him, sending them shattering to the floor.

"Where is she?" He demanded, his voice taking on a deep threatening tone.

"She's fine Mr. Solo, now sit down and contain yourself. I assure you the procedure has not been performed on her yet. We've encountered an issue that has caused concerns with the Colonel and I am hesitant to proceed..._even_ I have some sense of morality."

"You morals, ha! That's a laugh! And what concerns could a little bastard like you possibly have?" Napoleon sneered at him.

"I'll ignore that remark for now," Genius said calmly. "You see Mr. Solo, your friend Mishi is pregnant. Hmmm, I wonder, is it yours?"

Napoleon stared out at the water, refusing to respond.

That revelation had knocked the wind out of the agent's sails and sent a pain into his chest. He was convinced the baby had to be Illya's...all the more reason now that he had to get Mishi and himself out of there alive. His friend's child had to live. That gave Solo the emotional boost and determination he needed.

.

Illya boarded the canoe with Jollie and a dozen men from the _iwi._ The _waka_ was stained a dark color, with it's prow elaborately carved and decorated ornately with the intricate spirals and sacred symbols like those he had seen in the _Marae_. The main hull was formed from a single hollowed-out log, the stern of the boat was a tall tailboard.

Once his diving gear he sat on a bench beside Jolly at the stern, while the other men launched the _waka_ into the shallows then pulled themselves aboard, each grabbing a long oar as they seated themselves and began to paddle.

Jolly stood, shouting loudly, creating a rhythm not unlike a sea shanty, the rowers responding with answers in the time he set with his voice.

"_Tōia mai ngā waka e te iwi e___Haul the canoes everybody! " _Jollie called.

"_Hoea hoea rā ___Paddle, paddle back." _Came the response.

"_Aotea, Tainui, Kurahaupo." _

"_Hoea hoea rā."_

"_Tōia mai nga waka e te iwi e_ haul the canoes everybody."_

"_Hoea hoea rā" _

"_Mataatua, Te Arawa, Tākitimu," _Jollie named the great canoes of the past. "_Tokomaru hoea hoea rā." _

"_Hoea rā te waka nei_ row the canoe."_

_Hoea, hoea ki te pae_ row to the horizon."_

_Mā te poi e karawhiu_ may the sing of the poi,"_

_Kia rere tika ai_indicate the right direction."_

Illya checked a small compass, directing Jollie in which direction to indicate to the pilot as he had plotted the approximate location he had seen the submersible come to the surface.

"This time Jolllie, no arguments. If I am not back within an hour, then take this." He handed the _Māori_ his communicator. "You know what to do with this, if I do not return, then you are to tell my friend Steve Mannion what happened and what you all have seen. Is this clear?" Illya gave him a hard, cold stare.

"Gotcha bro, I promise."

The _waka_ was pulled to a stop by the men using their the oars, floating above where Illya guessed was the approximate spot.

Putting on his flippers, he dipped his mask into the water before he put it over his face, then Jollie helped him strap the oxygen onto his back.

He waved his readiness, as he put in the mouthpiece and inhaled to make sure it was working properly, then leaned backward on the edge of the canoe and flipped over into the water, disappearing beneath the surface.

The water was clear and filled with iridescent schools of fish darting around him. He really had no idea where he was going, and would be limited by the amount of oxygen in his tank.

It wasn't long before he saw a dark mass in the distance, the water was so clear, it permitted him to see that far. When he swam closer he approached what he could now see was an underwater dome with a mini submersible docked beneath it.

He went low, allowing himself to peek up inside as he swam the circumference, avoiding being seen by those within. Much to his relief, he spotted Napoleon, seated at clear dining table along with a group of men and women dressed in lab coats, but there was no sign of Mishi.

Illya then explored beneath the dome, staying near the pylons that supported it and avoiding areas where the flooring was made of the same clear material as the dome. He watched from behind the cover of one of the supports as a diver swam up into the dome. Illya paddled to the spot quickly, confirming it was an entrance as he saw the diver climb up and out of the water and into the dome.

He checked his wristwatch, noting his oxygen was running low and headed back in the direction to where the waka was anchored.

It happened suddenly, catching the Russian off guard.

Illya was slammed violently in the side and as he pivoted in the water to meet his attacker, he realized it was a dusky dolphin. Then a porpoise came after him, hitting hard. They were trying to get him to move, not to kill him otherwise he would be dead.

This behavior against a human was unheard of. He tried looked at them more carefully as they circled around him, noticing a small metal disc on the cranium of each of the creatures.

A third, this time a Bottlenose dolphin hit, knocking the breath from Illya and dislogding mouthpiece, sending the precious oxygen bubbling into the water.

A large dolphin barreled into the midst of the others, this one with a rounded head...Illya recognized it as a Risso's dolphin. He was big and he knew that if this one hit him, he would most certainly be a dead man.

But the Risso's slammed into the other dolphins one after the other, driving them off, then as if offering assistance, it let the Russian grab it's dorsal fin and guided him upwards.

They broke the surface with a great splash, only ten yards from the waka. And Illya tread water cautiously as the dolphin circled around him.

He waved to the men in the canoe and within minutes they were there, with the dolphin seeming to wait until he was safely out of the water.

Jollie helped pull the tank from the Russian's back as he breathed deeply, gaining his composure. " Did you see that dolphin by me...it defended me from others of its species that were attacking me."

The _Māori_ looked out into the water, seeing the Risso's dolphin swimming playfully around the canoe.

"Hey bro that's _our _Jack...he's saved quite a few people from drowning in the bay. We called him that after the other dolphin I told you about, _Pelorus Jack_. But you say he saved you from other dolphins attacking you? Never heard of that happening before, dolphins here have always been friendly."

"These particular dolphins had small metal plates on their heads, and I am convinced they have been tampered with, they were not behaving normally. Perhaps this Pelorus device has been used on them as well."

The canoe was rowed to shore, with the men returning to the _Marae._

Illya and Jollie entered the _whare runanga_ the carved __meeting house _and announced their findings to Paranihi and the leaders of the other _iwi._

Disrupting the meeting, a young boy came running into their midst.

"Paranihi! The big boat has come!"

Jollie's grandfather looked to Illya, knowing this was bad news as the freighter carrying the stolen uranium had arrived early.

Illya lowered his head for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he thought. He had no choice but to use these people to help him before it was too late.

"Alright Paranihi, how many men do we have?"

"Between the three tribes enough to paddle a great waka."

Illya looked to Jollie for translation.

"Round a hundred forty men or so, maybe a few more."

"Great," the agent said aloud and only two rifles and a Luger."

"No way bro, some of the men have scatterguns and a couple of rifles, and we have _Māori_ bone axes and clubs, in hand to hand they are deadly. And you've never seen a _Māori _weild a _Taiaha _staff, it is part of the _Mau rakau_ and is a martial art that teaches the use of the taiaha and other _Māori_ weapons in combat. It teaches us the skills of timing, balance and co-ordination necessary to wield the weapon effectively. In the hands of a master, it's deadly."

"Though we are a peaceful people, we have a warrior past. _Māori_ warriors are experts in the art of ambush and surprise raids, and we can appear and disappear swiftly and noiselessly into the thick New Zealand rainforest. We usually attacked at dawn with the aim to kill all members of the enemy war party, so that no survivors would remain with the risk of _utu__revenge."

"I do not think that killing mentality will be necessary, as I would much prefer over powering the enemy but do as you must to protect yourselves. We will attack at dawn then. While half of you take care of the guards at the so called Marine facility the others will board the freighter and overpower the crew. We do have the element of surprise on our side and I think numbers as well. I will dive down to the habitat and free my friends. "

"_Rawhiri_ my grandson." Paranihi called Jollie by his proper name. "You will lead the attack on land and your Uncle Hemi will lead the attack on the freighter."

Illya took a count of the armaments, finding six shotguns and two old carbines, beside the two rifles and hand guns that he'd purchased. They would have to do.

Jollie saw the worried look on his friends face. "Hey little Pākehā, come with me, I got something to show you."

He followed around the back of the sleeping house, finding dozens of the men practicing with _Taiaha_ staffs. Their speed, timing and skill was most impressive and it reminded him of the skills for which the _Shaolin_ monks of China had become famous—the _gùn_ __staff__,_ as well as the Japanese _Kenpo_ staff techniques.

The ferocity and precision with which they moved actually eased the Russian's mind, as he realized these were not just a simple native people.

Never the less, he made sure that Jollie recieved one of the the B.S.A. "hunter" short action rifles, that at least made the Russian feel a bit better.

The single and double barreled shotguns were distributed among those who were the best shots. The weapons ranged from American _Remingtons_, several _J. Purdey & Sons_ from London, and a few older looking guns of unknown origin.

One rifle he gave to the pilot of the waka that would take him back out to the location of the underwater dome.

He told Jollie and Hemi to give him a twenty minute lead before starting the operation. They were to take out the guards by the entrance to the building. The rifles should be used only for defense if at all possible.

Illya put the diving gear, and this time a spear gun into the smaller waka and helped the men launch it, climbing in along with the other men.

They chanted another song as they rowed.

"_E whitu ngā waka _

_e tau nei_

_Hoea hoea rā _

_Tainui, Te Arawa, Matatua _

_Hoea hoea rā _

_Tokomaru, Takitimu, _

_Kurahaupo, _

_Aotea ra,_

_Nga waka enei_

_hoea ra, _

_E o tatou tupuna_

_._

_Seven in number were the canoes _

_that headed this way._

_Sail on, sail on!_

_Tainui, Te Arawa, Mataatua _

_Sailing, ever sailing!_

_Takitimu, Tokomaru, _

_Kurahaupo _

_And Aotea _

_These are the seven canoes that sailed here __with our ancestor."_

The rhythm of their chanting filled the Russian with a sense of anticipation as he mentally prepared himself. He carried with him his Luger sealed in plastic bag as well as the explosive putty that hand been stored in the heel of his shoe.

Once they arrived at the spot he donned his gear and grabbing the spear gun, he dove into the bay, heading directly to the habitat. There were no sign of the dolphins and that was a relief as he made his way to the entrance beneath the dome.

.

Napoleon was grabbed by several of the guards, escorting him to his room. When they arrived, he asked if his friend was in her quarters. They told him yes, and he asked if he could go there instead. Surprisingly, they permitted it.

Mishi was laying on her bed, with a food tray untouched on the nearby table.

"Hi there," he whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed, but keeping his distance from her." You feeling alright?"

"Yes and no." She said, sticking her head out from beneath the aqua colored blanket.

He wasn't sure if he should say anything about the pregnancy, not knowing if she knew already, then decided it was better to keep quiet about it for the moment.

"Mishi," he leaned towards her, whispering into her ear to prevent prying ears from eavesdropping this time. "Get dressed, we're getting out of here now."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he put his finger up to her lips, stopping her.

She slipped from the bed, going to the bathroom and a few minutes later she emerged wearing a rather form-fitting white jumpsuit.

Napoleon took her by the hand, pulling her towards him. "Trust me." he said, kissing her on the lips. He could feel her shaking as she responded to his embrace, not sure if it was really him, or him being controlled again.

He took her by the hand, leading her out the door, heading to the room where he had seen the diving gear. They met with no resistance. That had him concerned, knowing there were hidden surveillance cameras, but perhaps Genius might not suspect what they were up to until it was too late.

He, after all told them the place was inescapable, so why would they be trying to escape? At the moment that bit of logic would have to do.

They entered the diving room and at that instant someone dressed in scuba gear rose up from the water firing a speargun, but the sharp projectile penetrated the wall just low and to the right of Napoleon's head, luckily missing him.

The diver pulled away his mask and breather. "Napoleon!"

"Illya?"

"Oh my God," Mishi gasped, "We were told you were dead."

"To quote Mark Twain, _the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,_" he smiled, happy to see she and Napoleon were both alive.

"Chum, I'm really glad to see you too, but we have to get out of here now." Napoleon had a relieved but serious look on his face, enough to tell the Russian it was time to act quickly.

Illya noticed the bandage on his partner's head, suspected he had indeed been implanted with this Pelorus device, but said nothing.

He hiked himself up out of the water, removed the waterproof covering for the Luger, tossing the gun to his partner. Pulling off his flippers and tank, he took out the explosive putty from a jar small glass jar he had sealed it in for the dive and proceeded to place pieces of the grey substance on the thick glass of the dome.

"_Ahem_, "Napoleon cleared his throat. "Illya, I think you better stop and turn around."

Solo and the Colonel were flanked by several guards holding spearguns; one of the men having relieved Napoleon of his weapon.

A small man appeared from behind them carrying a black control board with him.

"Don't tell me," he whined, "You're _Illya Kuryakin_. I must get better help in the future, as my men told me they'd killed you."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I prefer being alive to the alternative. And who might I ask are you...one of the _Munchkins_?"

"How dare you...you insolent creature!" Genius shrieked.

"Hmm, if you could learn to speak using a lower pitch that might make you sound a bit more menacing." Illya jabbed. "_Might,_ that is."

"Guard!"

A Thrushman stepped forward, slamming his fist into Illya's mid-section, making him double over as he dropped to his knees.

"Go tell Fleming we have an unwanted man from U.N.C.L.E. here and we may have to abandon the facility. Tell him, I am not pleased."

"And now perhaps a demonstration Mr. Kuryakin, I'd hate to have you have dropped by for nothing." He said, glancing down at the console in his hands. "Guard, restrain the Colonel if you please?"

'And would that be your _Pelorus Device_?" Illya sneered, looking at the black box.

"My my, aren't you the clever one? Yes as a matter of fact it is." Evelyn Genius smiled with satisfaction. He entered a series of numbers into the keyboard, sending Napoleon diving toward his partner, pounding his head to the floor, then rolling him over attempting to pin the Russian.

"What are you doing?" Illya yelled as he fought to free himself.

Solo's eyes seem glazed, almost lifeless, with no sign of recognition in them what so ever.

"Napoleon it is me, stop!"

The American dragged him up from the floor like a rag doll, then pulled back his fist before slamming it into his face.

Kuryakin staggered backwards but this time retaliated with a roundhouse kick, sending Napoleon spinning across the room, landing on his face.

Solo pulled himself up, heading straight back at him, blocking a punch with his arm, then reaching out, he clasped his hands around his partner's throat in a vice-like grip.

Illya tried pulling them away as the two wrestled to the floor, but as strong as Kuryakin was, Solo was stronger...the power of his hands increased by an apparent lack of inhibition, driven by the command of the machine and an evil little man.

"Stop, please stop it!" Mishi cried out, fighting to free herself from the guards hold.

Illya's face turned bright red as he began to choke, then saw just for a brief moment clarity returning to his friend's eyes.

"Napoleon, fight it! " He gasped.

"Zero Zero Zero." Napoleon struggled, barely able to speak. He repeated it, his voice filled with desperation as he tried to regain control of himself.

Mishi jerked away from the guard, elbowing him in the stomach and hitting him with a palm-heel strike up into his nose. She did it with enough force that the crunch of his facial bones could be heard, then she clasped her two hands together hitting him under the jaw and sending him flying backwards against a wall and slipping down unconscious to the clear plexi-glass floor.

She dove at Genius, struggling to get the console from him as she realized he was using it to control Napoleon.

"Oh no you don't you little jerk!" She ripped it from his hands, shoving him in the stomach with her foot, then kicking up and catching him right under the chin, knocking him out. Focusing nervously on the keyboard, she typed in 000 and prayed that it worked.

Napoleon instantly released his grip on Illya's throat like a machine that had just been shut down. He pulled his friend up into his arms, holding the Russian as he sputtered and gasped for air.

When Illya regained his breath, he wrenched free of his partner's hold on him.

"_I didn't? _Napoleon asked.

"_You did_ …"

"I _did ? Wow_?" * Sorry tovarisch, I couldn't stop myself..." Napoleon bowed his head.

"I am fine Napoleon, forget it." Illya said after a deep inhalation. "I suppose it is payback for when I tried once to kill you after I had been brainwashed." *

A deadly spear launched from a speargun came whizzing past them, landing right into the black control box. Sparks flew up from it as it burst into flame, as more Thrush guards appeared at the entrance to the diving room.

Napoleon, Illya and Mishi were now pinned down without a chance to get to the diving gear.

Illya dove, pulling Mishi to the floor along with Napoleon, taking cover behind a desk.

Another spear embedded itself into the wall behind them.

Suddenly there was a loud booming crash, and they all turned to see a black and white orca whale ramming into the dome, followed by several dolphins doing the same.

Illya recognized some of them as the creatures that had attacked him, perhaps without the device working they were retaliating against the place where they had been operated on.

.

The Marine Research building had been taken without injury with the two guards at the door having been overtaken and tied up, and a _Taiaha _staff jammed in the handle, preventing anyone within from escaping.

Hemi and his men boarded the freighter and were very persuasive, frightening the crew into submission as they used the movements of the Haka to challenge them, that and the fact they were armed with scatterguns and dangerous native clubs.

Jollie and some of the others gathered on the beach looking impatiently for the _waka_ with Illya and his friends, it had been too long and he was beginning to worry.

A feeling of desperation took him and he began to chant, calling out over the water with his arms outstretched and when the others of his _iwi_ heard the words, they joined him.

_Uia mai koia, whakahuatia ake; _

_Ko wai te whare nei e?_

_Ko wai te tekoteko kei runga? _

_Ko Paikea! Ko Paikea!_

_Whakakau Paikea. Hei! _

_Whakakau he tipua. Hei! _

_Whakakau he taniwha. Hei! _

_Ka ū Paikea ki __Karikari_ _Pakia!_

Jollie called not to the ancestor of the _Ngati Porou iwi,_ but to _Paikea_, the great _humpback whale_ - the most abundant of the large cetaceans of _Aotearoa___New Zealand_. He was calling it to help. Some how he knew _that _help was needed below the surface of Doubtless Bay.

_Whakakau Paikea...Whakakau he taniwha,Ka u Paikea ki __Karikari_

_Kei te whitia koe ko Ngāti Kahu te-rangi___Paikea emerge...a sea-monster is coming ashore, Paikea land at __Karikari__. Your identity is entwined with Ngāti Kahu._

There was a great disturbance in the water as they continued to chant, water spouts shot up into the air as a pod of humpbacks whales breached the surface, erupting up into the air and splashing down on their backs, then slapping the water with their enormous tails.

"_Tuarā Paikea, inoi___I beg help Paikea._" Jollie called to them.

.

* ref "The Thrush Roulette Affair"


	17. Chapter 17

One of the Thrush guards cried out. "They're going to smash the dome! Get out of here! Head for the sub!" They disappeared, abandoning the others.

"Come on," Illya yelled. "The diving gear."

He pulled his own tank onto his back, then picking up another to strap to Mishi, he shouted angrily,

"_Chert yego k chertu_damn it to hell! This tank is empty._" He cursed in Russian and soon discovered, all the tanks were empty. There was only his to use to get to escaped, and it was not full.

They looked at each other for a moment. Illya removed the tank, strapping it to Mishi's back in spite of her protests.

"We share." He grabbed her hand to calm her, giving her a reassuring look in the eye.

Together they climbed into the water, just as they heard an immense boom, seeing a monstrous humpback whale slamming into the dome.

A small crack appeared, and as the whale struck again, creating a hole allowing water to gush inside, beginning to flood the interior.

"Now or never!" Napoleon yelled as the water sprayed over them. On the count of three, Illya shoved Mishi's head under the water; he and Solo took several deep breaths, then followed her.

They held onto each other, then after swimming for a few minutes, Illya pulled the breather, passing it to his partner, and Napoleon did the same for him. After his turn, Illya pushed it back into Mishi's mouth.

The water around them was teeming with life, fish swimming wildly in every direction, dolphins and porpoises circled ominously then attacked, and in the melee Kuryakin was separated form the others.

Napoleon and Mishi finally made it to the surface, but there was no sign of Illya. Then yards away from them, the water broke, and the body of the blond Russian rose, draped across the back of a dolphin...the one Jollie had referred to as _Jack._

They stayed clear of it, fearful that it would attack them or harm Illya. As they swam to shore Jack followed them until it became too shallow, and it let Illya slip from it's back, permitting Napoleon to retrieve the motionless body of his partner.

The grey dolphin remained close to the shallows for a few minutes until it disappeared back beneath the water. In the distance the humpback whale was joined by others as they swam out of the bay, spouting water into the air, slapping the surface of the water. The largest of them suddenly breached, sending it's immense body above the water and landing with a great splash.

Napoleon dragged Illya to the beach, pushing his hands against his partner's chest to get the water out of his lungs. "Come on buddy, breathe!"

Water erupted from the Russian's mouth, choking and coughing as his lungs were cleared of the bay water he had swallowed.

Jollie and others from his _iwi_ rushed to them; the big _Māori_ aiming his rifle at Solo.

"Get away from him now mate!" He ordered.

"No Jollie, it is alright." Illya called then coughed violently. After he caught his breath he spoke again." These are my friends, Napoleon and Mishi."

Jollie grinned."Glad to meet you." He offered his hand to Illya, pulling him up from the sand, then drew the Russian to him pressing against his nose in the _hongi_, performing it twice."You okay little _Pākehā_?"

"I am now," Illya smiled.

.

They returned up the beach to where the freighter was anchored; the partners helping round up the crew and mercenaries from the boat. The prisoners were moved to cages that Jollie's people had quickly assembled to hold them.

Illya spotted the one he recalled was named Michael among them, still wearing his sheepskin jacket.

"I believe that belongs to me," he said sharply, holding out his hand as the coat was surrendered to him. He gave the Thrushman a smug look of satisfaction as he slipped back into his coat.

"Screw you," the Aussie spat.

"I think not...who is the wanker now?" Illya smiled wickedly, parroting what Michael had called him as he was pushed into the crab-infested shaft on Chatham Island.

A chain was locked on the door handles to the Research building. replacing _Taiaha _staff when Stevo and the U.N.C.L.E. re-enforcements drove in nearly five hours later.

With helicopters and ships from both the Royal New Zealand and the U.S Navies arriving; they took control of the prisoners and the uranium ore under the supervision of Mannion.

"See Stevo," Illya winked, " not so mundane even down under?"

"Right mate, but you mob did all the work," he laughed.

"The work has only begun, as I suspect there will be lots to investigate in building above and in what is left of the dome below the surface."

"Gotcha mate." Mannion saluted.

Once the situation was under _Māori_ along with Kuryakin, Solo and the Colonel, walked to the _Marae_.

Illya gave his thanks to all those gathered at there for helping defeat a common enemy. And in celebration a great _hui_ was quickly organized to honor their victory.

Stories of the battle were already growing to legendary status, but Illya did not quite believe the account of the humpbacks being called to help and took that much of this convoluted affair with a grain of salt. Though it was oddly coincidental that Jollie seemed to know of the humpback whales intervention below the surface of the bay before he had told his _Māori_ friend about it.

As they sat together at the feast, Napoleon showed his partner the scar on his head, wondering how long it would be before this hair grew back, thinking the ladies would not find it very attractive to have a bald spot in the middle of his head.

"Well, once medical removes this chip, perhaps R & D could come up with something to speed up your hair growth, until then you will have to look like a _Trapist Monk_, with your tonsured scalp." Illya chuckled.

"Thanks a lot."

Paranihi rose slowly with delibertaion; everyone going siilent as the chief of the _Ngāti Kahu _stood at the table looking directly at the Russian.

"Illya Kuryakin of the U.N.C.L.E. _iwi, _you have done a great service to our people and for a _Pākehā _not of _Aotearoa_New Zealand, _ you have shown great respect for our ways, and strength of character. I give you this _Koha _to show you our thanks."

Paranihi placed a green nephrite pendant, a stylized carving of a human figure, around Illya's neck.

"This is _Heitiki _and he is carved from _pounamu_greenstone _and a very ancient symbol. Some say he came from the stars and that he was the first man of the world. _Tiki _is respected as the teacher of all things and the wearer of this symbol is therefore seen to possess clarity of thought, loyalty, great inner knowledge and strength of character. It is a good luck charm when worn and _fertility_ symbol. May you live long and have many _children_."

Illya showed no reaction to _Paranihi's _wish; making Napoleon wonder if his partner was aware of Mishi's condition or not. He needed to keep his nose out of this one, it was between the two of them and it was not his place to say anything to Illya, even though he wanted to in the worst way to tell his partner.

Paranihispoke again, interrupting Solo's thoughts.

"_Kia hora te marino__, __Kia whakapapa pounamu te moana, __Kia tere te karohirohi."_

"May calm be spread around you, _may the sea glisten like greenstone __May the shimmer of summer __dance across your path."_

_"Ma Io koutou e manaaki, e tiaki, i nga wa katoa_may your God bless you and protect you for all time__**." **_

Paranihi finished reciting the traditional blessing to Illya, and leaning down, placing his hand to the back of his head; together they performed the _Hongi_ for the last time.

"You will always be welcome my friend. _Haere ra_ farewell."_

"_Ka kite ano_until I see you again," Illya responded respectfully._

_._

Jollie walked with the U.N.C.L.E. agents and the Colonel as they headed up the beach to board a chopper that waited to take them to the airport in Auckland.

Napoleon and Mishi said their good byes then climbed into the blue and white Ranger helicopter, leaving the Russian and the _Māori have a moment alone_.

"Hey bro so this is it."

"Yes," Illya said giving his new found friend a crooked smile." Oh, I believe I owe you some money." He pulled a white envelope from inside his jacket.

"No way, this was a warriors journey, we did good ya know." Jollie smiled. "Yes we did at that, but a deal is a deal and I pay my debts my friend," he said as he shoved the envelope into Jollie's hand. It was accepted without further argument. It was money that Stevo and the U.N.C.L.E. team had with them, and Illya had asked a favor to pool their resources to pay the _Māori_ the monies he was due.

The two leaned together, pressing their noses in the _Hongi_ three times, then shook hands.

"_Haere ra_ farewell," _Illya smiled at the big man with facial tattoos he'd become so accustomed to that he'd that he no longer noticed their presence.

"_Hei konei ra_see you later," _Jollie said, pulling the agent into a bear hug. He freed Illya of his grip, watching as he boarded the chopper, waving as it took off.

"I will have to return again someday to this well kept secret," Illya thought to himself while gripping the _Heitiki _still hanging around his neck. He made up his mind to come back to see Jollie, and ride those cable cars around Wellington, letting his new friend give him the grand tour, and of course return to the _iwi._ He had a feeling there were many places he'd like to explore on that return trip.

He liked these people who were just a small part of New Zealand. Their strength of character and beliefs managed to chip away at his pessimism. He realized that as long as there were good people that possessed such strong ideals like the _Kiwis _and the _Māori_ who had intermingled their cultures, then there would always be hope for other countries of the world.

Mishi poked Illya in the side, startling him from his thoughts, not knowing that his ribs were a bit tender from being pounded by dolphins as well as his partner. He stifled a moan, but no words were said between them.

Napoleon thought they were being unusually quiet, and seemed detached as they hardly looked at each other for the entire trip to the airport.

.

It was nearly two months after the completion of the Pelorus Affair that Illya received an outside phone call from Mishi Mirgorodsky.

As Napoleon stood beside his partner, he could see the man's face turn pale...if that was possible?

"_Hi Illya how are you?" she said cheerfully. "I just wanted to tell you that I was pregnant."_

"What?" His mind began racing, recounting the last time he had slept with her and was sure he had used condoms, every...no there was that one time. He did the math, and had not slept with her since the night before she and Napoleon left for Virginia. Not able to fathom how it had happened, he concluded that the doctors had been wrong about his sterility.

"Mishi, I am sorry I cannot, I mean I can help you with our child but..." He fumbled over his words, trying to reassure her, yet not be hurtful. When he had rescued her back in New Zealand, he knew then, though he had feelings for her, he was not in love with her.

"_Oh God, no Illya I'm sorry. The baby's not yours, It's Ralph's. You remember him don't you? Ralph Subishi ? He and I... we're getting married. Guess I found my mister right and didn't even know it at the time. I'm so sorry, I apologize, this call didn't turn out the way I intended it to. I didn't mean to confuse you. You see I called to invite you to the wedding in Virginia. It's in two weeks, at my place. Bring a date if you want."_

Illya could hear the joy in her voice but all he could manage to do was

congratulate her, saying he could not make it as he would be on assignment overseas. That was a complete lie. He wished her luck then hung up the receiver, looking a bit dazed.

"What's going on?" Napoleon asked as he saw the strange look on his partner's face.

"Mishi just called to tell me she is pregnant and getting married."

"_Really? _In a family way _and_ getting married? She's a bit free spirited to be tied down to one man and a baby isn't she? So it's not yours, I mean the doctors said you couldn't..." Napoleon fibbed, pretending he knew nothing yet couldn't resist probing for answers.

"No no, it is not. It was apparently fathered by that social misfit Ralph Subishi at Langley.

"You've got to be kidding? Him? He's a pocket protector data analyst and a nerd at that." He was genuinely shocked. " Well, she was _frisky_ that one, to say the least but I can't picture, no correct that, don't want to picture her with the likes of him." Napoleon joked. "Now there's an interisting name, Mishi Subishi"

Illya paused for a second. "_Frisky_? He repeated." You and she did not...?"

"No way, I told you it was hands off and I kept my word." He neglected to leave out the unwilling incident between he and Mishi from his portion of the mission report.

"Sorry, I did not mean anything by it. I am just feeling a bit out of sorts, that is all."

"You mean it's bothering you that Mishi is getting married? Don't tell me you really had feelings for her?" Napoleon stared at the man he thought had become immune to those sorts of things.

"No Napoleon, no worries there. I have discovered I held no feelings other than those of friendship for her... and lusting for an occasional _fuck_ now and then," he said sarcastically. " I am a bit taken aback by her choice for a husband."

That remark made Solo think otherwise about his partner's feelings, he sensed a tinge of bitterness in Illya's voice...no there was something else bothering the Russian and he watched him for a moment as he sat lost in thought.

Illya was lying when he said he had no romantic aspirations towards Mishi Mirgorodsky, and guessed he was just feeling a tiny bit sorry for himself. He enjoyed her company and the sex was mutually beneficial to the both of them, but now he somehow felt like he was being cast aside and for a _nerd_ at that. Not that he wanted to get married, but he wondered what he did not have that the likes of _Ralph Subishi_ did. He suddenly felt as if he had been emasculated.

This news unsettled him as he guessed he had more of an attachment to Mishi than he realized, but no matter, he would get over it like so many other disappointments in his life.

He would file the memories of her away, along with his feelings of loss, locking them up somewhere in the dark recesses of his psyche and compartmentalizing them as he did his other emotions.

It was not as if he was losing someone truly important to him, as he had his family. He was feeling betrayed at the moment or perhaps _abandoned_ was a better word? That was the feeling that was scratching away at him...anyone he had cared for had abandoned him, though not all did it willingly as death had a hand in this strange cycle that seemed to hover over his life like a sword of Damocles. That damnable sword was ever present.

He had no right to Mishi's loyalty as such, since they had made no promises to each other, then remembering his feelings of true betrayal at the hands of his first lover _Katiya Revchenckov_; it made him realize this was probably for the better.*

Illya knew his was a life that was destined to be lived alone, for however long that would be. His pessimism convinced him that every time he went out on a mission, it would be his last. That was the reality of it.

He could have no one with him in any sort of position of permanence. That was not his to give nor should he expect it of anyone to give it to him...only a person who lived this sort of life could understand how things were and could deal with them.

Napoleon Solo. He was the only one who really gave him that feeling of stability. He knew his friendship with the American was precarious, as death could take his partner at anytime because of their risky line of work and hoped that his friend would not be lost to him as others had been.

Napoleon watched as Illya buried his face in his hands, composing himself, knowing that this was not going to make it any easier for him when it came to socializing with women.

His partner shied away from them for one reason or another and now he could see one of the reasons why...any time he made a connection with a woman, he ended up getting dumped. Whether it was his fault or not, Illya always ended up being alone. No wonder he dodged women? To him it probably seemed better to be on his own and keep from being hurt or abandoned.

Unlike his parter, Napoleon did not need that _connection_ to enjoy a woman's company. He knew Illya had his one night stands, but they were far and few between, he seemed to crave more than just sex with a woman.

He wondered if Illya's life in Russia had something to do with his socialization problems, knowing his partner had been orphaned. Maybe that's where it all came from? He could only guess, as the shaggy headed blond was tight-lipped about his past to the point of paranoia.

Loneliness, that's what Illya was experiencing, it was easy enough to recognize. Yet Napoleon pondered if his solution to his own loneliness... going to bed with a different woman almost every night of the week was as sad as Illya's way of bedding fewer and usually the same woman for a while, until he was dumped by her.

Either way both of them ended up being alone and still lonely as they navigated through life.

It was a shame they didn't have a _Pelorus Jack_ of sorts to help guide them along in their personal lives, steering them clear of hurtful situations. Napoleon chuckled at himself picturing that analogy to the dolphin, hearing it's chirping and clicking noises in his head as an alarm.

Sensing his partner's deepening mood he reached out, placing his hand on the Russian's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, then winked at him.

"Hey didn't you once say to me _at least we have each other?"**_

Illya's lips finally gave way to a smile as he nodded."Yes we do."

That made Napoleon feel better. and as he pulled a small hand mirror from his desk he asked, "How does my hair look?"

"Not bad for a comb-over." Illya tried not to snicker.

"Tsk. Gee thanks. Come on, let's go have some lunch tovarisch."

"You buying?"

_Illya_ was back to normal...

.

**_Ko te __mutunga___Finis_**

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* ref "First Kill" ** ref "The Galatea Affair"

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Authors note: A special shout out to _Rosywonder_ for her invaluable help and advise. You did a great job!

This story is dedicated to _Laurose_, who prompted it and gave me wonderful insights about her home.

_Tēnā koutou___thank you_...my friends.


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